


Arcadia's Lullaby

by desideratia



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ACAB except Yixing, Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Artificial Intelligence, Crimes & Criminals, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fake Identities, Flashbacks, Government Conspiracy, Hacker!Baekhyun, Human Experimentation, I'll add tags later, Injury, Junmyeon is a mediator, Kyungsoo has issues, M/M, Minseok is an asshole, Multi, OC has daddy issues, Organized Crime, Sehun has had enough of OC, Slow Burn, Smut, Surveillance, Terrorism, Weapons, also, badass OC, but he's just protecting his friends, exo mafia, exo mafia au, know it all oc, mafia, so does pcy, vigilantes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 84,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desideratia/pseuds/desideratia
Summary: Being a lot of people is something she’s used to. To her closest friends she’s Jiah, your regular college student crawling her way into graduation day. To the eyes of a few she's the ghost investigator for The Chronicle. To the underground world she’s a ghost, a life she keeps telling herself she’s left behind.But before Jiah there was Rina, the girl who made all the wrong choices for the right reasons and learned the hard way to stick to the gray areas, no rights or wrongs. A past that burned to ashes buried behind her, never to see the light again.
Relationships: Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Original Female Character, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Reader, Zhang Yi Xing | Lay/Original Female Character, Zhang Yi Xing | Lay/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**_080318 - 00:18_ **

You’d be surprised to know what goes down in this place after midnight.

The Wings Hotel shines prettily, like a star in its own galaxy, both for the guests inside as much as the people on the streets who would never guess what kind of perfectly oiled machine works behind its beautiful facade.

She tells herself that she had a good reason to drag herself out of her bed from under the endless layers and layers of notes and unfinished assignments to come here. When finals get too rough she needs the reassurance that she doesn’t and will never miss this lifestyle, not the easy money, the rush, the violence or the adrenaline. 

Waking up as a college student is a harsh contrast to the reality the hotel exists in, both contained within the limits of the same city, two parallel lines that will never cross, not if she can stop it from happening. 

When she was first brought into this place it took her some time to really understand it, and then some more to want to stay away from the common areas. The place is a magnet for a very specific kind of crowd; politicians, businessmen, A-listers, pretty people willing to do the ugliest things to keep their names at the top of the social ladder.

Reality morphs into a film of sorts, tonight she’s just a passerby.

The man who puts a hand on her lower back and presses a flute into her hand acts as one of the main characters; expensive cologne, shiny shoes and shiny rings covering his short fingers, all smoked out eyes digging into hers in both amusement and mock surprise at the familiar shape of a gun underneath her clothes.

“What exactly are we looking for tonight? Or should I ask who?”

He says this as he brushes the crowd down bellow with curious eyes covered with grey contacts. From the open second floor there’s not a corner of the ballroom hidden from them, hawks vision, high angle shot. A perfect spot for the well-trained outsider.

Just like the one she was having a staring competition with moments ago. Dark suit, dark velvet mask, body and -what she could see- face made of angles sharp enough to cut, it’s a disappointment that he gave up on their little bonding moment, too busy browsing through his phone.

She drags her eyes away from the tall stranger across the room and shrugs.

“No one’s caught your eye yet? Lots of preys to choose from tonight” His smile says he’s onto her.

It isn’t that Park Jimin is someone she worries to hide things from. He’s as reliable and as prudent as Namjoon’s people could ever get, only liking to meddle into other people’s business for his own enjoyment. He also has an affinity for making everything about sex.

“Not what I came here for.”

He makes an _aaah_ sound and she accidentally breathes in his alcohol scented breath. How the man can drink twice his weight and still be a sneaky little fuck is a mystery to her.

“So you _are_ here with an agenda. Bet I can figure out what it is before you decide to disappear on us again.”

Tonight she isn’t in the mood for games; the consequences of being far too sober in a place filled with people either drunk or on their way there. If her gut’s right, a good man could potentially ruin his life tonight, she’s here to stop that from happening.

Noticing her sour mood, he retreats, nudging her a little with a soft push of his hip against hers.

“I’m kidding. It’s nice to have you around. We need some help keeping Kook in place sometimes.”

On the lower level said guy strolling with purpose past the kitchen doors catches their attention. They’re quick to follow a path unknown to guests and outsiders into the warm and busy area of the hotel, one of the many passages the architect had created under Namjoon’s orders.

Jung Hoseok wipes his fingers on a perfectly white handkerchief, a plate filled with steak forgotten on the steel surface of the island, standing up with both hands perched on his waist.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asks, hand resting against the back of Jeon Jungkook’s neck. A worried Hoseok is always a rare sight.

“Hong Taegyu and Nam Joowon are acting up. We’ve been trying to stop them from getting into a fist fight all night”

The Taegyu-Joowon situation has been going on for the past few weeks. Taegyu’s younger sister ran away with Joowon’s younger brother to the Bahamas and came back after a month with a pretty tan and a baby inside her belly. War was declared between the families when Taegyu almost beat the boy to a pulp and Namjoon tried to intervene and persuade them into agreeing to leave the incident behind and bring the families together.

Tried to and failed, tonight was supposed to be the night to shake hands, have a toast and celebrate the coming of a new era for the syndicate.

Jungkook presses one hand to his ear, frowning. “Taehyung says Taegyu’s walking into the men’s bathroom and Joowon’s after him”

Jimin sighs “What should we do? We can’t have a scene tonight.”

Hoseok scratches his forehead, letting his eyes trail around the kitchen staff. “We keep eyes on them, then we send them upstairs for a talk, away from the guests.”

She shrugs. “Just take them outside and let them have a go at it if they’re insisting”

Jungkook rolls his eyes “Let me step in. Joowon’s being difficult,Taegyu’s just drunk, he’s not even aware he’s onto him”

“The wedding is in two weeks and we can’t have the families splitting and backing up now from the new deal.” Hoseok says to her and then turns to Jungkook “And you get angry too easily, let’s wait for Namjoon to handle this, Joowon would be stupid to go against him when his father is upstairs anyway.”

The boy frowns “Do you think I can’t handle him?”

“Of course you can, but then the Nam’s will try to pin it on us taking sides and the deal will be for nothing.”

“Then I’ll go.” she offers “I have my own thing with Joowon, if they play the victim card I’ll say it’s personal. You know the old Nam has that weird rule thing about confronting women.”

Jimin shares a quick look with Hoseok, nodding at the idea. “She’s not wrong about that.”

“That’s very progressive of you” Jungkook scoffs. “You think the son won’t beat you up because of his old man’s beliefs?”

“Go,” Hoseok says, looking at his watch and pointing at the door “It’ll give us time until that damn meeting is over, I’d like to at least finish my dinner without these assholes acting up.”

Jimin lets out a relaxed sigh as he picks on the salad from Hoseok’s plate, shaking his head “Ah, don’t you miss the good old days?”

It’s not hard to spot Joowon as she enters the men’s bathroom, moving to stand next to him as he seemingly waits in front of the stalls.

“There’s not a line, you can—” he stops in his tracks to look down at her, almost jumping on his feet. “Ma’am, this is the men’s bathroom.”

She thanks god for Seokjin’s idea of a masquerade-themed gala, he still hasn’t recognized her.

“Wouldn’t you say it’s a shitty move to wait outside like this to beat someone up? You could at least let him wash his hands. What would your father say?”

He gapes for a second and then his eyes fall to her neck, landing on the black leather surrounding it. He crosses his arms and takes a step back, letting out a rough chuckle.

“I could’ve sworn Namjoon had gotten rid of his little bitch already, he forget to put on a leash on you tonight?”

While she’s not easily flared up like Jeon Jungkook, the joke is old and annoying, it was old from the moment someone came up with it.

“I’d walk out of here and wait for your daddy to walk out of that meeting like a good boy if I were you. I know you’re pissed about your little brother but tonight is not the night for you to display your stupidity, leave him alone.”

From the looks of it, Taegyu’s passed out inside or he’s hiding, because no sound or sign of life comes from any of the stalls.

Joowon’s grin shows her a silver tooth that makes her upper lip curl in disgust. “And if I don’t, what are you gonna do?”

She sucks her lips into her mouth and wonders what the fuck is taking the person washing his hands so long. If she could get some alone time convincing him would be easier, the flashy motherfucker is obviously trying to make a show out of it.

“Me?” she laughs “You two would have been escorted out to kill each other in peace next to the trash containers at the back if it were on me. I’d be worried about what Namjoon and the rest will have to say about this”

“Ah, you talk too—” she immediately moves to draw her gun out as soon as he makes a move to reach behind his back, freezing when someone grabs Joowon’s elbow.

“If the stories about your father are true, then I’m hoping you weren’t about to try and point it at her” the man says, swiftly removing the gun from Joowon’s hand “Correct me if I’m wrong, miss. Isn’t it strictly forbidden to bring guns into hotel grounds?”

“Xiu–” Joowon’s stutters, instinctively back down.

“It is” she says, dropping her hand to her sides. The stranger tips his head at her, like signaling for her to do whatever she has to.

“And what is the punishment for it according to the syndicate’s rules?” he asks, handing her the gun.

It’s an ugly extravagant piece, engraved in gold with a dragon shape against the barrel, heavier than necessary. The stranger smiles, feeling the disgust oozing out of her.

“Banning”

“If you’re lucky. I’ve heard of worse. Death, even. The families have to accept it since it’s a great offense”

He’s soft-spoken, no rush in his words, almost teasing like he’s dealing with a misbehaving child.

“Xiumin– this isn’t–”

She plays along with the stranger, shutting him up by pressing the gun against his jaw and taking the safety off with a loud click. With his head tipped back, Joowon’s starts to sweat.

No one has been killed for bringing guns inside the hotel, but clearly Joowon is stupid enough to believe it.

“What the fuck–”

She interrupts him taking the gun back and putting the safety on.

“Luckily for you, I don’t work for the syndicate.” she says, bringing the gun up and slamming the muzzle against his temple with a single blow.

He falls face first on the black marble floor, an ugly noise that might be his nose under all of his weight. The stranger simply moves aside, out of the way of the unconscious body.

She’s intrigued. The way he carries himself tells her he’s the kind that sits on meetings and shakes hands with the big men having big talks upstairs, but there’s a different air about him. With his black jacket and shirt under unbuttoned, she’s particularly distracted by a necklace around his neck; an old key that demands being seen. 

“His father won’t be happy, I hope you have a good back up for this. I’d help you out and say… he was trying to take advantage of you, but then…” his eyes are shadowed by his mask but there’s a glint that shows he’s trailing down and all the way back up to her face, a hint of something at the end of the scanning. “Something tells me you can get away with worse than this.”

She takes a step back at the sound of fumbling behind the stall door, it slams open revealing a very confused Taegyu with his fly down and two left feet, stumbling around with Joowon’s legs and almost falling to the ground. She keeps him up by the elbow.

When she turns around to face the stranger the door’s already closing behind him.

**_080318 - 00:04_ **

_“I have to give it to rich people, this shit looks breathtaking, I feel like I’m watching a Disney movie.”_

Those who know him would say that Oh Sehun has never been one to be put off by a crowd. Having been blessed with a face that makes it easy to pretend he’s unaffected by the extravagant show of wealth surrounding him, when in reality he almost finds it appalling. The hotel looks and feels like a modern renaissance fantasy, all marble floors and pastel walls with gilded ornaments that when traced with the eyes all lead you to a beautifully painted sky and crystal chandeliers that cast a soft golden light upon the guests.

 _“What’s that… that movie Soo made us watch? Pride and Justice?”_ Jongdae’s voice comes into his earpiece, followed by a high pitched laugh that can only belong to Baekhyun.

_“Prejudice. it’s Pride and Prejudice.”_

_“Whatever, you got what I meant. I was saying that it looks like it could’ve been filmed here, imagine if they did that dance”_

Sehun doesn’t think the couples gathered around the stage from where a quartet plays soft instrumental music will be pulling any kind of choreography any time soon, considering he’s been watching them sway from side to side for about thirty minutes now. More specifically, his attention’s been on the 33-year-old man wearing a silver mask with his arms around a girl that looks like she could be his little sister. He’s now muttering against her ear, pulling a giggle out of her. The two unaware of being watched.

Lee Chungjae.

What makes him so intriguing, you ask? The answer is quite simple, he’s either in immediate danger or could represent some sort of threat to the people around him. The important thing is figuring out which of the two it is and stopping it from happening. Usually some background check, maybe breaking inside his house or simply trailing the person should be enough to know, but Chungjae is different.

Coming from wealth, his life was molded and handed to him so that he doesn’t have to worry about anything; he has a day job at his family’s company where he doesn’t have to do a thing, spends his weekends playing golf or throwing parties for his friends, doing coke off young women’s bodies, tearing his home and life apart. He has no debts, single, never visits his family. He lives like a real-life ken, plus the hard drugs of course.

Baekhyun thinks he’ll be some sort of victim; he’s after all the son of a senator and a lot of people might be interested in hurting him to get to his father’s campaign for the presidency, Chanyeol claimed from the start that there’s something about his baby face that looks evil and while Sehun appreciates dressing up and free drinks, he only hopes they figure it out tonight, even if he has to stain his suit and mess up his hair. After three days of being his babysitter, he’s already sick of having to hear his whiny voice and the way he mistreats other people in silence.

Until then he can only keep an open eye around the area for any possible threat or little thing that might be out of place. He’s doing exactly that when he spots her, leaning on one of the columns next to the top of the stairs across him, left arm across her torso, elbow resting on her fist. He has no way of knowing if she’s looking at him with her face covered by a golden mask, but there’s no denying to the weight of someone’s attention on him. The little hairs on the back of his neck are telling him that it’s hers.

He leans his head to the side to let the boys know through his hidden mic about his observer and she mimics his movement and _smiles_.

_“Didn’t you say you looked too hot not to take someone home? Is the Oh Sehun intimidated?”_

He takes his phone out, unlocks it and pretends to be paying close attention to it, wanting to conceal his mouth moving.

“She’s just staring, she’s not playing it off at all.”

 _“Yeah, she probably wants to dick you down,”_ Jongdae says _“Is she hot?”_

 _“Staring at someone doesn’t mean you want to sleep with them”_ Kyungsoo’s voice sounds far away like he just happened to walk past.

 _“You only say that because your blind ass stares at everyone and everything, normal people code works different,”_ Baekhyun says. _“Where is she, Sehun?”_

“Second floor, across from me, mauve jacket, long hair, golden mask, black choker, she’s alone”

_“Did you just say Mauve?”_

_“It’s pink but duller,”_ Baekhyun hums, Sehun can almost see him leaning into one of the screens, expert eyes looking for her. _“Yeah, I don’t… think I see her.”_

When he looks up in surprise, she’s gone. This is what seeing a ghost must feel like.

“That’s not strange at all” he mutters sarcastically

 _“She shouldn’t be so hard to find if she’s wearing a jacket”_ Jongdae points out and he’s right; amidst all the dresses, a girl in a jacket should be easy to spot _“I think all that hairspray is making you see things, all I see are dresses”_

 _“Maybe she went to the bathroom”_ Baekhyun offers but there’s really no way unless she sprinted down the stairs in the few moments he looked away.

As he surrounds the open floor towards the stairs with long calculated strides, he can’t shake off the feeling the girl plays an important part in all of this, he supposes it’s the kind of intuition Jongin told him he started to develop himself. A pair of older women check him out just as soon as he goes inside the crowd on the lower floor, and he gives them a stiff smile and a curt nod, finding that she’s nowhere to be found and going towards one of the huge portals by the middle, finding some sort of exit to an empty terrace.

He’s greeted by the sound of the water from the fountain and the smell of freshly mowed grass. It’s a humid night, the air is still, in the emptiness of the garden he can feel a thin layer of sweat pooling between his forehead and the velvety inner surface of his black mask. He stops when he finds himself about to enter a bush maze.

The boys on the other side of the line fall and he only realizes it when Kyungsoo speaks up to remind him “ _You still_ have Chungjae to take care of”

It’s true. Even if Chungjae is a piece of shit his name came up, even if the urge to track down the woman presses him to keep looking, duty calls him inside.

 _“Don’t stress too much about it, I’m sure your Alice is somewhere in there.”_ Baek says, taken aback by how tempted Sehun looks.

He looks up, finding a security camera by one of the lamps next to him from where he knew the boys are watching at home as usual.

 _“Wouldn’t he be Alice in this scenario? And mauve girl the rabbit?”_ Jongdae says _“How do you get that wrong?”_

 _“Lower your voice, pride and Justice”_ Baekhyun lets out a loud laugh at Soo’s comeback _“I’m not defending you either, you two are dumber than I thought”_

Once back inside he takes a seat by the bar, moving his knee up and down, fingers tapping against the surface, growing bored by the opulence and the feeling of absence the strange woman left behind. Soon enough Chungjae switches partners with someone else, the woman he’s dancing with looks less than pleased about having him touch her, a frown on her red lips. Her eyes are lost over his shoulder, eyeing the man who took Chungjae’s place as his date’s dancing partner.

 _“Oh! Oh shit— I think I see her, she’s going your way,”_ He’s too busy trying not to lose Chungjae’s amidst the crowd to hear Jongdae’s words when he turns around and finds her taking the seat next to him _“Where the fuck did she come from? That’s fucking creepy”_

 _“She could be a staff member”_ Kyungsoo reasons. _“See? There’s a door behind the bar”_

“Are you sure that’s a smart choice?” she doesn’t look at him, ordering peach juice for herself before letting him answer. Her voice makes him think of the grainy effect people use on pictures.

For Sehun, master of detachment, her distraction gives more than enough time to collect himself and feign nonchalance.

“This is a party, what’s wrong with having a drink?”

There’s no pretension of class to her movements at all, making him wonder how it is she got into a fancy event such as this one. Baekhyun mumbles about going through the hotel’s staff list while Jongdae checks out the guest list again.

“Drinking on the job can be risky”

“You don’t look like the type to be afraid of risks,” he says “and certainly not for the type of girl to hang around this kind of place either”

 _“There’s our boy, a little bit teasing and seductive with just the right touch of insulting,”_ Jongdae cheers him on. _“Girls love that shit. You show her”_

She smiles, tilting her head back. “And you don’t look like a cop or a soldier but you move like one. Private security?”

The bartender has been sticking for a moment too long on their side of the bar wiping the already clean counter, Sehun gives him a look that sends him away to tend to another guest before answering.

“I could be a cop, what’s wrong with that?”

“The police wouldn’t invest in tickets this expensive, no matter how important the case” she shakes her head, dismissing the possibility. “And you’re too handsome”

 _“Ooooh, this is getting interesting, I like her.”_ Baekhyun claps excitedly.

“And you’ve been staring at the son of a certain senator all night. I couldn’t really tell because of that…” she points at his mask, his eyes land on her chirped nail polish “but something tells me it’s not out of interest. You’re too… spineless.”

_“Told you not to stay on the upper floor for too long, you’re too tall not to be noticed”_

The reason why he stood there was that as soon as he got in some woman kept hitting on him, insistently, and he couldn’t keep turning her down without drawing too much attention once she started getting too touchy.

Mauve girl smiles at his indecision.

“You’ve been watching me”

“Yeah, I have” she admits shamelessly, extending a hand towards him and standing up, the high waist black dress shorts she’s wearing are little wrinkled up from the position she was in. “Dance with me? You’ll get an excuse to be closer to him”

He looks at her hand and then back at her covered face, clasping it with his and letting her lead him. He has the feeling that the touchy woman will no longer be a problem as long as he sticks to helpful Mauve girl, arm going around her waist as she struggles a little with putting hers across his shoulders comfortably.

She’s armed, doesn’t even blink when he very clearly brushes the concealed gun with his arm. His curiosity spikes by the second. The hotel has an unspoken rule that bans gun, so how can she be carrying one so effortlessly? Is she the one he’s supposed to be protecting Chungjae from?

 _“What happened? What did I miss?”_ Jongdae asks out of nowhere. Probably coming back from a bathroom break.

 _“Sehun has a date,”_ Baekhyun says. _“The I’m not like other girls type of girl. Look at her refusing to go along with dress code. Y’know, if she’s not a staff member, I’m getting this vibe she could be someone’s daughter forced to come…”_

 _“Could be. Maybe dad is at the meeting going on upstairs.”_ Jongdae plays along. _“Wait, doesn’t the senator have a daughter, too?”_

He listens to their rambling as he moves side to side with his weird little partner. It’s simple, not much more to it than feet shuffling to the rhythm, but it’s awkward and stiff. Chungjae’s sister went to Juilliard, and Mauve Girl doesn’t seem to be able to move along with the slow beat at all, so it’s very unlikely.

“I don’t like this type of dance” she sounds like she felt the need to explain herself. The contrast between her confidence before and how she’s almost shy now is endearing, somehow. 

He laughs softly “Then why ask?”

“I told you, you’d get an excuse to be closer to him” she answers, lowering her voice as they get closer to Chungjae. Now that there’s barely any distance between them he tries to look under her mask, but since her eyes barely reach his chest she keeps her head turned aside or upwards, making it difficult to do so.

“Why are you helping me?” Sehun asks.

 _“You just proved her right about stalking Chungjae,”_ Jongdae says.

“You only need to know that my main interest is that this night goes by smoothly” she states, hand shifting against his. “I don’t think you’re a threat to that”

He wants to ask what she means by that. Even Jongdae and Baekhyun point it out. He’s intrigued, but anything could go wrong while he tries to figure out what game she’s playing. How she fits into this situation.

 _“He’s gonna do it. Don’t do it.”_ Jongdae says _“Do–“_

“Then you should be careful,” he says, making her eyes snap up towards him. “Something will happen. I can’t tell you exactly what, but something will, and it’ll involve him.”

He finds no trace of surprise on her face and it’s only then, as he waits for her to ask what he meant, that the possibility becomes very real: She’s been on watch too, except she was the first of the two to realize she wasn’t alone.

He could really be dancing with the one person he should be protecting Chungjae from.

 _“And the plot thickens,”_ Baekhyun announces. _“this name keeps getting interesting. All that build up’s finally paying off”_

Done with games, his grip on her turns tight, pulling her towards him by the arm with enough force to leave an imprint around her wrist and stop circulation. Their dance stops, only tension left behind. Outside of their bubble the party goes on, the music and the couples around them pay them no mind.

“But you already know that, don’t you? Who are you?” she pouts at his steely voice.

“That’s none of your concern. Why are you looking so mean out of nowhere? Relax.”

He could drag her somewhere, outside maybe, where he could disarm her without causing a scene.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, no” Her tone is calm but her speeding heartbeat thumping through the sheer black shirt she has on tells a whole different story. It beats against his stomach like a little bird trying to escape its cage. “Look to your left”

He does not soften his grip on her, hand bunched against the soft velvet of her thick jacket as he tears his eyes from her face. They’re being watched by a man with his arms crossed standing by the lobby’s door.

_“Shit.”_

“And you remember Mr. Nosy, right?” she asks.

Behind the bar, the blonde barista sporting a playful smirk salutes him.

“He’s a little shit, to be honest, he really doesn’t mind acting even if it means making a scene out of it, that’s something we both don’t want. Attention. So kindly get your hands off me, please.”

_“Let her go, it’s no use.”_

He lets his arms fall to his sides, still staring her down. She takes a step back, readjusting her clothes and puffing her chest out.

“Feel free to keep enjoying yourself and act like this never happened.” She smiles cordially at him before walking away “And don’t mind them, they’ll behave if you do.”

When he looks back the man by the door has disappeared and the blonde man behind the bar is back to working guests with a charming smile, mixing drinks like nothing even happened in the first place.

 _“A blocked number is calling Chungjae,”_ Baekhyun says. _“he’s moving”_

“She had a gun” he hisses “Who the fuck brings a gun to the wings hotel?”

 _“What?”_ Baekhyun spits in surprise.

 _“You”_ Jondgae says _“And you’re gonna need it from the looks of it. Forget about that chick already and get to Chungjae.”_

There’s no time to figure out where Mauve Girl disappeared to or try to follow her. Chungjae is too unaware of his surroundings as he answers the call to notice Sehun’s steps behind him, listening to the call going on from his tapped phone.

_“Mr. Lee, We’re sorry to let you know this, there seems to be a problem with your car. If you could come down so that we can see-“_

“What the fuck do you mean a problem with my car?” he barks, lowering his phone to demand one of the security guards by the front door tell him where the parking lot is.

“The call comes from within the hotel. Someone inside is calling him. The parking lot is empty, though” Baekhyun says. “This has to be it”

He’s still spitting insults into his phone as he crashes onto a group of girls that walk outside of the hotel, going down a set of stairs that lead underground to the parking lot, hanging up with more force than necessary.

Sehun has to restrain himself from groaning at the man’s stupidity as he rips the annoying mask off his face and tosses it on a trashcan that he walks past. He’s really letting a strange number lure him into going to the most secluded place of the building.

“Great” Chungjae mutters, childishly slapping his palms against the sides of his legs “I don’t even know where the fuck those shitheads parked”

_“Someone’s coming, behind the elevator. Man in black, he’s armed.”_

He catches up to him, grabbing him by his shoulder and pushes him against the side of a parked SUV. Chungjae looks ready to pounce on him but jumps and presses himself against the car door the second the first shot is fired, eyes wide open in fear.

“Shit–”

“Stay down” Sehun growls, pointing one finger to his face, stopping himself from saying or I’ll shoot you myself, taking his gun out and peeking from behind the car to locate the shooter.

“He’s moving… you’ve got company“

The second and third shot come from their left and he spins, ordering Chungjae to get to the floor, lowering his gun and shooting as soon as he catches the dark figure coming from the other side. A flash of familiar dull pink gets in the way but he loses her behind the line of parked cars.

The sound of someone being smashed against a car and wrestling echoes around the empty parking lot as he runs towards them.

“There’s another way” the fabric around her shoulder is tattered, a chunk of it burned off where Sehun’s bullet grazed her while pushing the shooter out of the way.

She doesn’t look like she’s having the best of times with one hand pressed against the side of her face and the other supporting her weight as she leans back on the hood of a white Maserati, wincing through her words.

“This is not how you want it to be”

The shooter is shaking, gun shoved into her face and spit coming out of his mouth “Have you been following me?”

_“What is she doing?”_

Mauve girl finally manages to open her eyes to look at him over the shooter’s shoulder. The contact so subtle and she’s looking at the shooter again so quickly he almost misses it.

“Don’t waste your life away, Haneul, think about those kids. What happens when they see their history teacher’s face on the news? What would Nayeon say?”

_“Hold on. What was that?”_

“Why do you care? I never asked for your help! Are you stupid? God, you’re bleeding!” question after question his voice gets a pitch higher until it tears and he lets out a ragged breath, lowering his arms in defeat.

Kyungsoo’s tone is unforgiving _“Sehun.”_

He lowers his gun and presses the trigger, sending the man to the ground. She throws herself down immediately, pulling the gun from his grip as he twists in pain, letting out a loud sob.

“Kook, I need you to come down and get someone, he needs a doctor” She says into her phone, taking one step back, rolling her eyes in irritation “No– he’s not dead, why the fuck would a dead man need a doctor? Because I fucking say so. Now!”

She turns to look over his shoulder as he walks over. “Where’s Chungjae?”

Tires screeching against the pavement and an audi speeding over the ramp is enough of an answer for the two of them.

Without the mask, his mind registers that there’s something that doesn’t sit right with him about her face. It’s hard to point out what, but it isn’t the mascara that has started to stain her under eyes, or the pained expression as she inspects her shoulder.

“Are you dumb? What were you thinking, getting in the way like that?” he raises his voice to scold her.

“Well, why did you aim so high?” she hisses back “Calm down, you’ll live.” she tells the man on the ground instead.

He’s crying now, shaking and turning around, propping himself up on his elbows to look at the wound, falling on his back when she pushes him down with her foot.

“You’re lucky he didn’t hit an artery. Just stop moving.”

 _“Someone’s going your way”_ Baekhyun warns.

“Someone’s coming,” Sehun repeats, trying to pull her with him to hide between the cars but she doesn’t budge, walking past him into the drive lane, much to his growing frustration.

“Finally” she mutters as a white van stopped in front of them, the same man from the lobby’s entrance earlier comes out from the passenger seat, only this time his face is uncovered.

“How come I have to clean after your messes?” he asks, opening the back door. Up close he looks a lot younger, and he seems to be very aware of it by the way he struts his way around like he’s compensating for it.

“Because I handled Joowon and you owe me.”

“What’s he doing here?” he points at Sehun.

“Helping you get him inside the van”

Sehun turns to her, shaking his head “What? No— wait. What’s going on?”

“What do you think? He needs to be taken to the ER since you busted his knee,” Haneul whimpers from the floor and she pulls an oh shit face, turning to him in a rush “It’s a small caliber, it’s not that bad, don’t worry.”

“And then what? He was going to kill someone–“ She snaps back towards him with hardened eyes.

“But he didn’t. From what I see here, you’re the only one who actually shot someone, so get him into the van before he passes out.“ She says, before adding in a softer tone "Please.”

The van’s window rolls down revealing the driver, a man with bright ginger hair and a thin nose. “Hate to interrupt but could you speed this up? This is not an ambulance service and I had to leave a very eager lady to come here, I’d like to get back to her as soon as possible”

The boy walks past them and bends down to lift the shooter by the shoulders. Sehun sighs and putting his gun in its holster, bending down to help him, not before shooting her a look that says their discussion is far from over.

She looks a little more like her old self when they close the back doors, jutting her chin at the driver

“You still owe me,” she says to the boy as he gets inside the van “Brat.”

The van speeds away in the same direction Chungjae had followed, and Sehun breathes as he turns to her, regarding her from head to toe in curiosity.

“You work for Namjoon?”

The blank expression she gives him makes him wonder if he made a mistake by using the name, suddenly her knees buckle under her, body giving in to gravity, it’s by instinct that he rushes to grab her before she hits the ground.

“Hey– are you ok?”

She slowly raises her head to look at him and the reason he was so creeped out by her clicks.

He’s seen her face before, somewhere, if only he could…

The softest graze of fingertips by his left ear pull him out of it, he’s just about to ask what she’s doing when she’s already backing away with his earpiece clasped in one hand, the other pulling her gun out.

She aims it at him without hesitation.

“How do you know Namjoon?” she demands, straight to the point.

Sehun put his hands in the air as his left brow twitches, bothered by how easily he got tricked when he should be on Chungjae’s track, making sure he doesn’t run over someone with his terrible driving and panicked state.

“He owns this hotel” he answers.

“No, that’s Kim Seok Jin” she corrects, spelling the man’s name pointedly, sounding like that one know-it-all kid that loved correcting people on class “Kim Namjoon? That’s a shadow. He’s not even related to Seokjin to the public’s knowledge. So why do you know that, and why are you after Chungjae?”

Truth be told, he doesn’t even know the man himself, he’s only heard the others mention him, since he and Jongin remained away from this side of business. He knows that he controls a good portion of the drug trafficking in the city, that he’s famous for doing favors to powerful and not so powerful people to gain power.

He doesn’t understand why she’s making a big deal out of it, even if she works for him.

Now he’s lost contact with Baekhyun and Minseok and he can’t risk her being either a good or bad shot this close trying to tackle her or take his own chances, he doesn’t think she’s forgotten that he has a gun too so she’s knowingly avoiding to ask for his. It all points out that she doesn’t want to risk getting near him.

Good, he thinks, all he needs was to distract her and wait for backup. He didn’t come alone, after all. 

“Guess” he tells her daringly “You seem to know a lot for someone who’s just a guest.”

She purses her lips, drops his earpiece on the floor and stomps on it, hard.

He stares at her with a cold expression.

“If you do work for Namjoon you have no reason to be doing this. Trust me.” she doesn’t even blink, finger tracing the trigger, eyebrows up, silently asking him if that’s all he’s got “I think you look familiar. I’ve seen your face before, I don’t know where, but I have.”

She rolls her eyes. “Turn around, hands up, you know the drill” she orders. “I’ve dealt with enough of your kind for tonight”

He sighs, doing as told. “My kind?”

“Men” She wastes no time lifting his jacket and taking his gun, hands patting down to his ankles in search for any other concealed weapon.

“Walk” she pokes his lower back roughly with the muzzle, signaling towards the stairway.

“What’s wrong with the elevator?” he taunts with his eyes forward, already knowing why.

“So you can go Bruce Wayne on my ass? No thanks” she mutters a few steps behind him.

“Bruce Wayne? You must really think I’m handsome. I’m flattered” he says, keeping her talking, keeping her busy. “Is this how you treat all the guys you take dancing? Or am I special?”

The sound of her phone ringing and her steps stopping behind him as she barks for him to wait pulls a smirk on his face.

"I’m busy.” she says. Sehun can hear the humming of someone talking on the other side of the line. “Is this one of your pranks? No. Yes.”

She hangs up.

“Put your arms down” she mutters, rolling her eyes when he slowly turns around. “It looks like you’re actually Robin, some Mr. Wayne is upstairs asking for you to be delivered safely”

“I won’t say I told you so” Sehun counters, catching up to her as she presses the elevator button. “Can I have my gun back?”

“No.” she says, entering the elevator and pressing another button. “I’m guessing you’re a newbie, no guns are allowed in hotel grounds.”

He chuckles in disbelief, leaning on the wall with crossed arms “You had a gun yourself too, how’s that fair? Are you some kind of gold member of Namjoon’s crew?”

“No” she says, turning to face the elevator’s door in front of her, ignoring his stare “My days around here are over.”

He hums, furrowing his brow as he tries once again to put a name or relation to her face. “Yet you’re here. Wonder why that is.”

The elevator finally opens, she leads the way like she’s been born and raised inside these walls, the few members of staff and people they walk past don’t bat an eye at them.

They stop at white double door that lead to a private room that looks more like an office than an hotel room. On the back of a desk sits a tall, slim man with sliced platinum hair dressed in a black suit with no shirt under.

It can’t be any other than Kim Namjoon himself.

“Were you asking for me?” she asks.

Sehun can’t see her face, but something about her voice has changed.

“You’re not causing trouble with our guests, I hope, Rin?” Kim Namjoon asks as he stands up to full height. A part of Sehun enjoys how easily she turns docile at the presence of her boss. “These gentlemen here were worried someone might’ve been making things difficult for one of his men.”

Sehun is about to say something smart when he sees the state not only Minseok, but also Junmyeon are in.

Frozen on his spot, jaw set, eyes wide open reflecting the white light from the chandelier above them, shoulders strained like he’s holding his breath. Junmyeon puts one hand on his shoulder, a gesture he recognizes as calming, turning to him instead.

“Sehun” Junmyeon calls worriedly, eyes flickering for a moment “What’s going on? Is there a problem?”

“No. Just a misunderstanding” Sehun says, not knowing exactly how to act anymore, walking towards them.

“What’s this?” Namjoon walks towards her, lifting her arm where her jacket is ruined. “Did you burn yourself?”

Now that he can see her upfront, it takes him by surprise how Mauve Girl is looking back at them, not him, not Namjoon; it’s Junmyeon and Minseok where her focus is.

She looks scared.

She remained composed when the shooter pointed his gun at her face, but Minseok’s and Junmyeon’s presence has her face drained of color, lower lip shaking just enough for you to catch if you really focus on her face, knee flexing as she leans back like she wants to make a run for it.

Kim Namjoon is either too busy to realize this or he’s just that good at playing it off, shaking his head as he surrounds her and stands behind her, not reacting when she presses herself against his chest in her attempt at taking a step back.

“What am I going to do with you, little one?”

She doesn’t resist at all as he takes his time running his hands under her jacket, looking up at the ceiling until he finds what he was looking for, putting the three guns on the desk. Sehun’s, the shooter’s and hers.

With her posture is detached, reminding him of some lifeless mannequin, he no longer feels the joy he did before, it’s turned into maybe something closer to pity.

“These gentlemen are Kim Xiumin and Kim Suho” he signals at them with one hand as he fixes her shirt “But you seem to have already gotten closer to…”

“Sehun” Junmyeon says, composed “This is our colleague, Oh Sehun”

Namjoon nods at him, and Sehun’s done deciding that he doesn’t like him or the way he looks so unaware of the tension around them.

“Kim Namjoon. This is Jung Jiah. I’d call her my protegee, but I don’t think she’ll like that. I’ll have to ask you to forgive her, she sometimes forgets about our rules, I assure you I’ll do my best to remind her.”

Stiff bows with no soul to them are exchanged. It’s unnerving Sehun not knowing what the fuck is happening in front of his eyes, but he hopes to get an explanation once they leave.

He doesn’t know what freaks him out the most, this Namjoon guy who seems to be an overall creep, Mauve Girl looking like her soul abandoned her body or the way Junmyeon and Minseok are acting.

Minseok speaks up. The kind of collected Minseok that’s pissed the fuck off but holding himself back. He’s always been exceptionally good at that.

“I thought it was Rin.”

Kim Namjoon almost looks taken aback, head leaning to the side.

“You called her that, earlier” Minseok reminds him.

Mauve Girl has returned to her senses and she’s looking at Namjoon like she wants to burn his face off with just her eyes while he placidly swiped his thumb over the side of her neck, chuckling softly, a pair of spots sinking around his mouth with the gesture.

“She doesn’t like her given name, so we call her that. It’s more fitting, don’t you think?“ he looks at Sehun this time. "Well, I’m glad this all turned to be a misunderstanding, we wouldn’t want such a beautiful night to turn sour”

He smiles down at her for a strange second, until Junmyeon clasps his hands loudly, announcing that they must be on their way.

The drive back is silent.

Junmyeon’s hands are gripping the steering wheel instead of just resting one hand comfortably on it like he usually does. Sehun has never felt so annoyed about taking the back seat, feeling like a kid left out after that little scene. He thought they were done with the secrets a long time ago. He thought he was part of the team now.

Now he’s starting to doubt it.

Minseok’s phone rings for the fifth time and thankfully he turns it off, finally speaking up.

“Tell Baekhyun to stop calling, we’ll talk when we get there”

“I can’t,” Sehun says, looking out of the window “She took my earpiece”

_And my gun, too._

“What was that?” he asks.

He’s not expecting an answer.

Junmyeon’s shoulders stretch against the fabric of his jacket, he breathes out three words and it all clicks.

“That was Rina”

Why she was so familiar, why they were acting like that.

“But wasn’t she–“

“Dead” Junmyeon says, looking at him through the rear mirror, the whites of his eyes turning red “She was dead.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation comes out when it’s least expected. She’s too busy looking over her shoulder to realize she’s walking into the same situation she’s trying to avoid. A dimpled man from the past teaches her the night is not only good for goodbyes, sometimes it can be see you later too.

_**080618 - 08:54 am** _

Her favorite mornings start like this, holding this crystal door open with her hip, letting herself be welcomed by the smell as a horde of students walk out of the coffee shop.

Walking inside, she adjusts her messenger bag over her shoulder, pressing a half yawn to the back of her hand. Weekends are meant to be comforting, an opportunity to charge up her spirits, and yet the last one did nothing but leave trails of exhaustion and overthinking on her. All of it left her craving her Monday routine.

No matter how earth-shattering last Friday was, she will not let it disrupt the life she’s worked so hard for.

It’s not the burn of the first long gulp of coffee that wakes her up from her daze, but the name, loud and clear, coming from the flat screen hanging from the ceiling. Her head darts up in shock so fast her neck strains, reading the headline, bold and clear, two and three times before it really sinks in.

**An election, a dead girl and three voice mail recordings.**

_“What we do know is that the incident was cleared very quickly, the judge ruled that the fire was caused by negligence. Now, there are some points worth looking into, we are waiting for an official statement on that investigation but according to the Seoul’s Chronicle the fire department confirmed that the fire started on the left wing of the third level of the building, and it all seems to point out that it specifically started in Im Nayeon’s apartment.”_

It has the attention of every single person in line, both in front and behind her. Some people sitting on chairs are also looking up in a mixture of shock and anticipation. Even members of staff have gathered to get a closer look at the ongoing discussion on the tv, where four men in suits are going over every piece of information available, claiming to be waiting for Lee’s team to come out with an official statement.

It’s not every day that the son of a presidential candidate gets involved with a dead girl, more specifically, threatening her via voicemail.

It’s finally out. When she woke up that morning she didn’t think much of Kibum’s text, too focused on collecting her stuff before heading out to take the bomb emoji as anything other than a drunk text sent by mistake.

“Yeah, he can forget about that seat” one of the men behind her speaks up “It’s been, what, three hours now?”

Taking her change, muttering a quick thanks, she moves to the side and pulls out her phone in a rush to see it all for herself.

Not only the investigation made it to the first page of today’s newspaper, the recordings were published around 6 am on The Chronicle’s website and _that’s_ how you get something to blow up. People were having breakfast on their way to work with Im Nayeon’s name all over their tv, radio and most importantly social media. You’d have to be living under a rock to not listen to Lee Chungjae’s talk to a dead girl in a way no mother or father would want their child being talked to.

_“There are obviously a lot of questions that will probably remain unanswered for a few days, but there is are some very crucial one, are these recordings enough to have Nayeon’s case re-opened? And how will this affect Lee’s campaign?”_

_“As for his campaign, we’ll have to wait for the next poll. It all depends on the judge, and it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it’s expected, we all heard those crucial words coming out of Lee Chungjae’s mouth.“_

She closes her eyes, shutting off the atmosphere around her to really savor knowing every effort put for the past few weeks has started to pay off. 

Drink in hand, her eyes find Sooyoung waving at her with a mint highlighter in her hand, sitting next to one of the large windows by the front, an open binder and resting on her lap, tapping the couch next to her. They agreed to meet before classes to go over notes and revisions in silence just for the moral support of being near each other.

Sooyoung doesn’t know just how much the tight hug she engulfs her in does to calm down her racing heart, muttering against her hair about how she looks like she needs a nap and a sheet mask.

The two are barely parting when a tiny freshman drops her body on the couch, kicking her bag under the small table and letting her head rest on a pile of cushions like her neck can’t hold it up for a second longer.

The girls share a knowing look, sitting down without bothering her.

“ _You chose to play with fire and I’m not letting you drag me down with you, so don’t make do anything we’d both regret_ ”

“I can’t believe he actually said that. It’s like he sentenced her to death via voicemail, how sick is that?” Sooyoung says as she folds one leg under her, visibly shivering.

“Could’ve just been a shitty choice of words,” she says halfheartedly, not bothering to pull her notes out. She did all of the studying she could last night, and her brain’s too tired to take more.

After Haneul was let out of the hospital and it became evident that he had no one to take care of him or at least keep him company, she offered to stay over for a few days. She wasn’t expecting two things; him to agree so easily, and the long commute from his place to campus. Waking up an hour earlier meant sacrificing a huge portion of her sleeping time.

Yerim suddenly comes to life, the scowl she sends her way doesn’t match with swollen under eyes, pouty lips and messy hair.

“Your _question everything_ philosophy doesn’t apply to this. That man is guilty as fuck. Anyone who tries to deny it is either trying to get on that old man’s good side or just plain dumb.”

She takes a long sip of her cappuccino, a little entertained by the girl’s passion.

“True, but there’s still not enough evidence for Lee Chungjae to actually be declared guilty yet, and who’s going to want to accuse the poster child of that nonprofit organization?”

“Well, the damage is done and his daddy keeping silent isn’t making him look not-guilty” Yerim remarks, not so sneakily stealing a long sip from Sooyoung’s iced americano and another from her macchiato, taking her laptop out and sighing before eyeing her. "Are you bailing on us again this Friday?”

The hopeful pout Sooyoung is also giving her makes her try to remember what’s supposed to be happening on Friday.

“Sana’s party? Open bar? Everyone’s talking about it, Jiah.” the younger girl reminds her exasperatedly.

“Shouldn’t you be worried about surviving this week before thinking about that?“ Yerim squints at her, Sooyoung lets out a chuckle.

"That’s true, that scholarship won’t be kept on its own, babygirl.”

“You two were a lot more fun last semester, please bring my friends back, would you?” she mutters, suddenly switching up and putting the best doe eyes she has “Anyway, who’s gonna be a doll and proofread this for me?”

It takes her a second to register it’s her phone buzzing from the insides of her bag, and she buries her hand inside with played off urgency. It’s only going to add up to their little theory of her having a secret boyfriend but it’s somehow better to have them entertained with the idea that, at the end of the day, is harmless in comparison to what she’s really been up to.

“Hi?”

Silence.

“Who’s this?”

When she inspects the screen they’ve already hung up on her.

“That was quick,” Yerim gives her a careful look, trying to untie her earphones. “He must be a man of few words, that your type now?”

“An unexpected turn of events after the last one” Sooyoung laughs, getting serious when she takes a glance at the expression on her face “Who was it?”

“It was a blocked number, no one answered” she stares at her phone in resentment, having a strange feeling invading her stomach, barely registering Sooyoung as she lectures her.

“You shouldn’t answer blocked calls.”

“Well, if it’s anything important they’ll just call again”

“Too bad for them, I have class,” She says, grabbing her stuff and standing up “I’ll see you around”

She gets a sarcastic sure from Yerim, and Sooyoung raises her voice just as she’s getting closer to the doors to tell her something along the lines of please take care of yourself.

It puts a small smile on her face during her walk to campus. It’s selfish of her to be a little satisfied knowing her friends have resented her absence. With school, gathering information about Lee Chungjae and Nayeon while also keeping an eye on Haneul it’s been impossible to keep track of them or even answer texts. Every time she tells herself she’ll answer them later it all vanishes from her memory, only remembering once she has to pick up a phone call from Sooyoung demanding to know if she’s alive and why she’s been ignoring them.

Or last Friday, when Yerim called to tell her she was at her door with Chinese food and to please open the damn door already because she needed the bathroom, all the while she was actually at the hotel.

She can’t tell her friends that she spent the past three months contacting Im Haneul, finding out about the voicemails and convincing him to release them and then stopping him from trying to shoot Lee Chungjae, fucking his life up and any kind of possibility making the people responsible for the staged death of Im Nayeon, his baby sister, pay for their crimes.

There are many things she can’t really tell them about, like just how close she is to the owners of the Wings hotel, or that she’s ever been there, or that the last few days she had to walk into the most uncomfortable situation of her life and confront people who thought she was dead.

She gets goosebumps at the thought of it, looking over her shoulder as if she’s being followed. The quick moment of distraction almost gets her hit by a guy on a bike, apologizing rushedly and switching up to quick and longer strides. It’s with that same rush that she makes quick work of the things she has to do for the day and goes straight back to Haneul’s apartment.

She pulls her phone out to check the notes app, where she wrote the entrance code and closes the door behind her, toeing her shoes off with her hand propped against the grey wall.

Haneul sits on the couch in front, his injured leg propped up on the coffee table. He’s so entranced by what seems to be another show where the investigation is being discussed to even notice her, mid absently nodding when she sits next to him and greets him softly.

“How’s the leg?”

“You didn’t tell me you managed to get them published.” he’s so clearly affected it’s almost uncomfortable to see, a lost gaze, lips that barely move, next to her there’s not a trace of the man she once saw in front of a classroom, talking to kids about battles and emperors like he lived through them himself.

“It took me by surprise too,” she says, resting both palms on her knees before standing up. “Hungry?”

“You don’t have to” he rushes to say, but she’s already pulling her hair up on a ponytail and taking over his kitchen.

“I do, actually. We’re not starving under my watch.”

When the sun goes down and it becomes too obvious that he needs some alone time and she herself some space to think, she tells him she’s going for a walk and not to wait up for her.

Over the years she learned that it’s best to become a creature of silence past 10 pm, not in the sense that words stop flowing from her mouth, but in becoming quiet, melting into the background noise. Like most of her little traditions, it’s the result of what she likes to think are were specific calculations: your surroundings highlight themselves when you pass unnoticed and focus. 

It saved her life once, got her out of many ugly situations and she’s sure that, had she adopted the habit when she was younger, a lot of damage could’ve been avoided.

But she’s not wandering around at night to dig that up, no. It’s the opposite, actually. When she’s feeling overwhelmed and the walls of her apartment feel like they’re closing up on her, the city becomes therapeutic, a calming jungle filled with lights that make up for starless night skies, they never demand for her to be anyone, too busy shining to care if what her true name is and what mistakes she’s made.

Almost unknowingly she finds herself inside a drugstore. The Erlenmeyer flask led sign across the screen reminded her of the folded prescription inside her phone case and honestly, it couldn’t hurt to get some extra painkillers for Haneul after she crushed a few to dust trying to properly cut them in half.

Fingers tapping against the counter as the woman looks inside drawers at the back, there’s a loud slam coming from her left. A boy that couldn’t be past his twenties walks past with clenched fists and long strides, hitting the front door with his knee as he walks out. To her surprise, a girl in a turtleneck too thick to be comfortable for this weather follows him from the same place -apparently a bathroom- all red eyes that barely meet with hers, jaw shaking as she rushes to catch up to him.

The woman in the white coat shakes her head as she leans to the side to watch them disappear down the street, turning to share a look with some other girl in uniform that’s busy pulling products from a box.

“He bought three pregnancy tests” she mutters.

“Poor girl.”

Clutching the plastic bag in her hands and tossing the ticket on a trash bin nearby, she’s greeted by the sight of the subway exit she was originally headed to. Taking a step down the stairs, she’s stopped by the sound of people arguing echoing through the walls.

_“How is this my fault?”_

_“You should’ve been more careful!”_

_“What the— are you kidding me right now? this is on you too! You’re the one who said condoms weren’t ne–”_

_“Don’t point your finger at me.”_

_“Don’t cut me off!”_

_“Lower your finger, right now.”_

She grimaces, too many problems of her own to have to go through hearing other people’s business.

_“No! You’re going to listen to me for–”_

The girl is cut off again, this time by the sound of skin against skin and a small cry of pain.

_“Fucking– fuck– you always make me do this, don’t you see? I told you to lower your fucking finger”_

It’s all she needs to go down the first flight of stairs, nose flaring and jaw tight. She finds them just at the bottom of the stairs, the same girl from the drugstore on the floor while her hand clutches the side of her face, ripping it off and staring at it in a way that is too unattached for someone who’s not used to being treated like this. She looks up and meets her eye.

“What are you waiting for? Stand up, goddammit” the boy hisses, pulling her up by her arm like he’s handling a rag doll “Don’t go playing the victim now, fix your face”

But the girl pays no mind to him, still staring right at her with empty eyes. Now that she can take a closer look at her like this, she can see that under layers of make up her skin around her left eye doesn’t match the rest of her face. Clearly, no one has taught her how to properly color correct a bruise.

“What are you looking at–”

The boy turns, faltering when he realizes they’re not alone.

It’s been too long since she’s had any kind of confrontation like the one she feels coming, probably since she told Namjoon she was walking out, and while she very much hopes to keep it that way, the sight is tragic and familiar at the same time. She knows she doesn’t have it in her to walk away from this.

“What are you looking at? Keep walking” the boy snaps.

“When was the last time?” The girl flinches, taken aback by the question directed at her. “The last time he beat you up, I mean.”

It only angers the boy further, dropping his hands from the girl and turning to her with his whole body like he’s trying to intimidate her.

“Who the fuck are you? Some couple counselor? Mind your own business, lady.” he spits, staring her up and down.

“I’m not talking to you”

The boy scoffs, reaching out to grab the girl by the elbow. The girl cries out as soon as the contact is made, hissing and closing her eyes, trying to put distance between the two of them.

She takes a step to the side to stand in front of him, stopping him from moving any further and lifts her chin at him. His body leans back, but his position remains..

“Get your hands off of her, now” she orders.

The air gets thicker, no sound of the subway coming. Once again, pressing down harder on the girl’s arm, he pulls her to the side and drags her up the stairs.

She stands there for a second, staring at the empty space and walking up behind them.

A muffled cry of help echoes through the stairway and Rina runs up the last steps. The two of them don’t even register her presence as she grabs him by the back of his neck and slams his head against the tiled wall.

“What the fu—”

The shock of the impact helps the girl free herself from his grasp, she stumbles and falls back with a yelp.

She only gets to hear her body drop when he turns to her and pulls her by her hair, banding her back before pushing her down the stairs. She gets a hold on his upper arm, making him trip and pulling his weight down with her, rolling towards the bottom. She catches a flash of silver and dodges him.

“Yoojung— no!”

Curling her fingers against his wrist she’s almost too late to stop the knife mid-air before it grazes her face. He’s sloppy but heavy in every sense of the word, grabbing her shoulder with big hands that feel like they’ll crush the bone there, keeping her against the ground. He doesn’t feel her knee coming up his crotch until it lands.

“Help!” the girl shouts from up the stairs. “Somebody help!”

“You fuckin’ bitch–” he barely lets go of her shoulder and the knife drops to the ground scarily close to her and she only misses it by turning her head to the side “Should’ve minded your own fucking business” his hot breath hits her eyes and he brings her up against his chest just to slam her against the ground.

He’s strong.

Really strong.

She needs to get from under him before he breaks something so she cranes her neck despite the pulsing pain running all over her back and buries her teeth on the flesh closest to her, barely registering the sound of voices adding up from above.

“GOD FUCKIN’ DAMMIT”

Blood pours into her mouth and she releases, pushing him off her with what little strength she can muster. He grabs her by the neck but it’s done when she rams the knife into his thigh and turns it just at the conjunction where she knows will hurt the most, pulling the ugliest shriek of pain from him.

“Call me a bitch again and it’ll be your eye.” she tells him as she stands up, back slightly bending in pain, knife clutched in her hands.

The girl stares at the scene in front of her with red, wide, watery eyes. Something tells her it’s not from the way she spits blood on the floor but from the sight of the man to blame for her bruised up face scattered on the floor, defenseless. Rina recognizes the two women from the drugstore as they rush down the stairs and catch up to the crying girl.

“Look at her,” Rina says, crouching down with a wince, grabbing a fistful of his hair and turning his face in the direction she wants. “You’ll never put one finger on her again. If you ever do, I’ll know, and then I’ll find you.”

He swallows, forehead dripping in sweat, he can tell by the feral glint in her eye that she’s not bluffing, that she means every word coming out of her mouth.

“You don’t who I am” he raises his voice, tensing his arm. The girl has stopped sobbing, eyes closed shut like she’s still afraid of him even when he can even walk for himself, refusing to walk away as one of the women tries to get her to "You have no idea who–”

“No, _you_ don’t know who I am.” she says, standing up and pressing her foot against his wound. He cries out, it only makes her press harder.

The sound of muffled sirens cuts through the air, a flash of blue shining from the entrance of the stairs, not so far from them. There’s another voice and the sound of steps rushing over.

“Stay where you are.”

It’s too late for her to make a run for it, she knows that much as soon as the gun appears, then a pair of arms, until a young officer’s whose eyes go from the man at the end of the stairs trying to drag himself out of the situation with blood pouring out of a very ugly looking wound to her, and then to the girl in the woman’s arms.

He seems to have it all figured, or at least most of it because his voice wavers with the order.

“I’m going down to you, don’t move, hands in the air where I can see them”

Having to follow along with protocol makes her want to throw herself down the stairs, but she doesn’t have it in her to try to escape when the girl’s holding on to the woman for dear life, pressed against her shoulder, tears soaking through the white coat and staring at her.

It’s almost like she feels her hesitation. “Don’t go” she pleads. “Please don’t go"

It’s regret and bitterness what hits her as soon as she feels the cold of the cuffs clinging to her wrists, they’re a little too tight for her liking, and she can thank the boy for it as he’s shoved inside an ambulance, screaming about the crazy bitch that stabbed him, and to get her away from him.

The newbie cop turns out to be pretty harmless, apologizing about it once the girl assures them that she did nothing but help her. He keeps telling her that they’ll be off as soon as they get to the station. His partner, a woman who walked down the stairs reporting the scene and calling for backup for the wounded, quietly soothes the girl and makes her sit next to her on the back seat, putting a jacket over her shoulders. 

The tears have washed up most of her makeup, and her bruised face is out for everyone to see and connect the dots, Rina has a hard time looking at her, opting to stare out of the window, only reaching out a hand to hold hers.

It’s a poor attempt at comfort for the girl, and some reassurance for herself too.

The first sip of the cup of coffee she’s offered at the station to swallow down painkillers she fights to take down her throat. She places the Styrofoam cup back on the table and lets her hands rest on her lap. Other than the mixture of blood and shitty coffee in her mouth, the back pain and a few scratches here and there, she feels fine.

Detective Seo, a tall woman with scary eyebrows and an even scarier voice that scanned her up and down with an unimpressed look on her face when she was brought inside, and realized as soon as she saw her walk that her back was killing her, sends her the same knowing look she did before telling her to take the painkillers she offered and to drop the tough cookie act.

“Her parents own a restaurant, they want to invite you over for dinner as soon as you’re out, I’m sure it’ll wash out the taste”

Rina blinks. She’s been sitting on the same chair for about one hour and three different people have come over to tell her she’ll be free as soon as possible, including some lawyer dressed in a navy suit and shiny polished shoes that she certainly doesn’t have the money to pay for. Still the door remains closed and her patience is running thin. 

She wants to go home, or the temporary version of it that consists of Haneul’s couch and a few blankets.

“Don’t look so taken aback, you’re lucky your lawyer managed to convince his family not to press charges. Beating a minor to a pulp is not something can get away with” the woman says as she leans against the table.

“To a pulp sounds far-fetched, Detective. What are you implying?”

“What could I possibly be implying?” Detective Seo asks back “When that boy said some woman stabbed him _and_ bit him, everyone had a good laugh. I was sure it’d be the inside joke at the station for the rest of the month, but then we got hold of the CCTV footage…”

“Then you know to a pulp is really exaggerating”

“Still” the detective doesn’t miss a beat “Those were some impressive moves. See, I’m a detective, and naturally, I’m very curious, I watched the tapes a few times because I mean, we all get a rush out of seeing men who hurt women getting beat up, and eventually, I realized you must have some sort of training.”

“Isn’t it a little dark? Enjoying seeing civilians getting beat up?” Rina points out, not containing her laughter.

Detective Seo chuckles “I haven’t seen my therapist in a few weeks now, it can get pretty dark up here.”

“I bet, must come with the job” The woman widens her eyes dramatically and nods at her.

“So, as I was saying” she carries on with a crisp breath “I don’t think you took just kickboxing or some judo classes. I’ve been to some underground spots around the city, and there was something very familiar about the way you moved”

It’s the second time she hears something similar these past few days, the first being at the hotel, moments before being face to face with Junmyeon and Minseok.

In all this chaos, they’ve been occupying the back of her mind like never before. Memories brought back by the weight of cuffs. Just a few hours ago she was looking over her shoulder everywhere she went, searching for something familiar on strangers’ faces and voices and scents she found on the streets.

Joohyun sums it all up as paranoia.

And she’s probably right, being right has always been a Joohyun thing.

Detective Seo raises her voice, making her jump in her seat. “Jiah?”

"Yes?”

“Do you have anyone you can call who will pick you up?” she asks, not appreciating having to repeat herself judging from the way her lips are pursed.

“No.” she says quickly, startled at the way the woman suddenly stands up, grabbing the manila folder from the table.

“Detective Zhang offered to drive you home.” It’s then that the door opens, creaking “He tells me you two are familiar with each other.”

She turns to face the person standing by the door, slowly, being filled with the regret of taking that sip of coffee. The bitter, now acidic thing threateningly going up her throat leaves a scalding trace at the sight of him, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of washed out jeans.

“Hi, Jiah.” he says, smiling and nodding curtly.

During her years knowing him she would’ve never thought Yixing’s presence would make her sick like this, but it’s been a long time since she last saw him, and now he’s a detective, and she’s Jiah.

Just like they did at the parking lot after that bullet went past her, her ears start to ring again.

"You can always go home on your own if you’d prefer.“ 

Detective Seo frowns between the two of them, taken aback by the sudden quietness coming from the girl as she stands up on stiff legs and walks out. The man gives her a look that says he’ll explain everything the next morning before saying his goodbyes.

The walk to his car which is parked not far from the precinct feels longer than it actually is. She’s aware of the pair of tired eyes on her because if one thing hasn’t changed it’s the way he permanently looks like he just rolled out of bed.

“What detective Seo said is true. You don’t have to come with me”

The way she looks at him makes him chuckle.

“But of course, I’d prefer if you didn’t. You look like I’m about to kidnap you, I won’t lie and say I’m not hurt.”

“Are you?” she asks, looking straight at him and finding it hard to read him when all she senses are good intentions and her mind is going through a thousand possible endings to this encounter. "About to kidnap me?”

“Wait” he frowns, resting his forearm on the top of the car, tipping his head to the side, giving her an incredulous look “Seriously?”

“I saw Junmyeon and Minseok last Friday, and now you’re here, Detective Zhang?”

He takes his time to examine her, sucking some air through his teeth and nodding.

“I see. Can you please get in first?”

“Do I have to?”

“I’d be really grateful if you did, but it’s up to you, of course.”

She looks around, some officers talk carelessly as they get into a car not so far from them and another police car drives past. Detective Seo stands at the front entrance of the precinct with her arms crossed, shamelessly looking at them.

It’s 1 am and she’s about to go for a ride with a man that she last spoke to with a thick barrier of glass between them when he told her Byun Baekhyun had found the one thing he spent months looking for, and that they would find a way to get her out.

His car smells like mint and leather and he’s in no rush to start driving, turning the ac to the max and handing her his badge and ID hanging from the rearview mirror.

“You’re really a cop.” she thumbs the badge with his name clearly printed on it. It’s heavy, a lot bigger than they look like on tv.

“Yes, and this” he draws a circle in the space between them “is all a coincidence, believe it or not. I can tell you don’t trust it but I didn’t get sent here or anything, no one knows we’re here.”

Because she doesn’t believe him for a second, she can only smile.

“So you didn’t know about the reunion at the hotel? You happened to just be around at 12 am? And that lawyer just happened to fall from the sky to do charity work?”

“Ok, ok,” he says, spreading his hands against the steering wheel “I do know about the hotel. I saw the footage on the precinct’s groupchat and I put two and two and came over, I was about to go to bed, you know? I came here just for you, you took quite a beating. I called Junmyeon because stabbing a minor is a serious thing, he sent one of his best to make sure you got out as quick as possible.”

“I’m already in your car, no need to sweet talk me” she scoffs and hands him the badge back as he laughs, turning the ignition on.

“Detective Seo said you had to go through drinking our coffee and that you refused your info being given out to the girl’s family,” he says “So I’m taking you to dinner, I know a good place around here.“

“You don’t have—”

“I don’t, but I want to. It’s good luck to feed college students, haven’t you heard?”

The dimly lit 24-hour dinner is surprisingly not empty but not so full that it is too noisy to sit in a booth at the back and get some privacy. She orders the spiciest noodles they have and he asks for iced tea, claiming that having dinner again would only make him sleepy. He engages in casual conversation with the man who apparently owns the place, as cliche as that sounds, while she sits back and takes advantage of his distraction to take a closer look.

The years chiseled his features, angles sharper, skin-tight around the bone in a healthy-looking way, he’s a little tanner than she remembers, warmer around his hairline, but it could be because he no longer covers his forehead. The undercut suits him, the thought makes her smile for some reason.

“So, you really learned how to put up a fight, Kyungsoo would be proud, maybe a little scared even with the bitting” he pulls an impressed face.

“How is he?” she blurts out. It’s a slip, and she really means to ask for all of them, but him being brought up just makes her feel like knowing.

“He’s doing good, they all are. You gave them all a scare, though, they’re still… recovering from it”

She pretends to kick him under the table when he smirks around his straw, not calling him out because just then a lady comes over with her food, the steaming bowl stealing all of her attention, mouthwatering.

Her eyes dilate a little when she takes the first slurp, taking her time to savor it, inspecting the thicker than usual noodles like there’s a secret hidden in them. It’s impossible not to close her eyes for a moment.

“You weren’t surprised?” she looks up at him and he nods, a smile stretching his cheeks.

“Oh, I am, I guess with work and everything it was easier to get distracted. What about you?” he asks, leaning back against his seat and looking all over her face. “I mean, you’re all… you’re all grown up, just seeing you it’s good, but, you look good good. Well fed. Except for well…”

“I’ve been good, you make it sound like I had no idea how to take care of myself”

“I’d say you’re more than capable, you’ve got some tough teeth. So tell me, what have you been up to when you’re not beating up bad guys?”

She chews, looking out of the window, looking for anything worth mentioning “I graduate next year and… yeah,” His eyebrows go up in surprise but it’s a lazy gesture and she clicks her tongue

“But you already knew that, right?”

He let his head down and rubs his hand against the back of his neck, where his hair is cut the shortest, a familiar silver band around his middle finger with a green encrusted crystal makes her gulp loudly. It’s too small on him, barely reaching the middle knuckle.

The silver thing makes a noise as he dropped the hand against the table in defeat.

“Baekhyun…”

Of fucking course Byun Baekhyun traced everything about her as soon as they got hold of her identity. She groans at the thought, shaking her head and dropping her chopsticks.

“What else do you know?” she demands.

“Not so much, he said there’s not so much to find on social media.” His phone makes a chirping noise.

“That’s probably them” he admits, lifting his torso up to grab it.

Them. Them. How many of them are still in contact? Junmyeon, Minseok, Baekhyun, he mentioned Kyungsoo too. What about the rest?

“Are you going to tell them?” her tone is accusatory, she can’t help it.

“Would that bother you?” he looks up at her, putting it back in its place after turning the screen off.

She leans back just a little, and he’s quick to pick up on her readiness to walk out of there.

“They’ll want to see you, it’s only natural” he says, looking unsettled by her reaction.

“That… sounds like a mess” she breathes out, stopping him as he opens his mouth “Seriously, Yixing, I don’t want to regret coming here with you”

“Hey, this is good news for all of us, you know that right?” he asks, leaning on his elbows like there’s a wall around her head he wants to go through.

“It’s not realistic.”

It certainly didn’t feel like good news inside Seokjin’s office. Minseok had a face on him that told her that the only thing holding him back from jumping her was Namjoon and whatever stupid business relationship was established between them that the man refused to tell her about. Junmyeon looked like he wanted to spontaneously combust but had to remain calm to avoid a bomb from going off.

“From where I see it, nothing is realistic about this, up until a few days ago we all thought you were dead and I’m a cop, let’s get honest here” he points at himself with both hands.

She puts her palm against her mouth as she feels laughter bubbling up her throat, taking a moment to swallow the sip of tea threatening to spill out of her mouth

“How did that happen? No offense… I just wasn’t expecting that”

He shrugs, looking out of the window for a moment before focusing back inside.

“After everything went down I took some time. I realized a lot could’ve been avoided by having someone inside the police force. I enlisted, and suddenly I was a detective and really liked my job”

Her mind is spilling with questions, but she knows she’ll have to answer some of his in return so she keeps them to herself.

“Really?”

“I’m serious, even the paperwork and the coffee that tastes like soap, the pay is not so bad either.”

The woman behind the counter turns the volume up on the TV hanging from the ceiling. They’re replaying the same broadcast from earlier in the morning. She’s suddenly reminded of Haneul and the fact that she can’t remember where she left his painkillers.

“What do you think?” she asks, surprising herself “About that”

He goes back to his normal position, as he had to crane his neck to the side to watch.

“It’s a huge hit. The presidential campaign just started last week and Lee was a favorite for office. He had a huge rally by the river today and this whole thing really rained on his parade. I wouldn’t want to know what kind of nightmare is going down right now with his team trying to fix this mess up.”

“Do you pity him?”

They’ve been transmitting footage of Lee’s speech where he assured that the people who didn’t want to see him as president were only showing their desperation by trying to ruin his family’s name to tear him down.

He’s good, very good, almost too good.

Before he can answer, she asks again.

“Did you listen to the tapes?” he blinks at first, pouting a little.

“I don’t think anyone in the country hasn’t listened to them. It’s the candidate’s son threatening a dead girl”

“But did you really listen?” she insists, getting an expectant look from him “There was a part where he said they were right about you, and then he goes on suggesting she’s being a coward for wanting out. I don’t think… no, I know he’s not talking about just whatever kind of relationship they had. It can’t be. It’s too intense, but there’s no soul to it, it isn’t about a breakup, he was talking business”

He crosses his arms and listens to her carefully.

“What kind of business would a CEO have with a 24-year-old uni student?”

She leans back. “You tell me. I met the new boy while he was watching over him, remember?”

“Sehun,” Yixing says “And I heard you were after the teacher, her brother.”

There’s no soul to her smile. It’s so cynical Yixing can only blink.

“I bet you heard a lot more than just that.”

He says nothing. It’s a little irritating, not having him ask the questions she knows he wants to ask, even if she’ll find a way to avoid answering them just like he did moments ago.

“I’m guessing you don’t think he did this on his own, that’s kind of obvious, he could’ve just paid someone without even thinking about the money, so this is about whoever did it for him. Why? And if someone helped him out, then this whole thing on tv and the whole tapes situation only gave them the head’s up to clean up everything they could’ve left behind"

“Honestly?” she pauses to drop a piece of ice she’d been playing around with inside her mouth “I have the feeling this isn’t the kind of thing that comes out on its own. It needs a little push, to feel threatened. You saw Nayeon’s case, right?”

“I wasn’t on it, but yes… Gas leak, explosion, whole apartment burned down overnight, she was probably already unconscious by the time the fire went off”

“It was cocky,” she says, pulling a face of annoyance. “They were sure they’d get away with it, that no one would look into some 24-year-old girl who forgot to turn the stove off, but the truth is she didn’t cook for shit. The girl survived on take out and had breakfast at her brother’s place, she worked the night shift at a restaurant a few blocks from her building where they feed their employees.”

He falls quiet again, regarding her with thoughtful eyes, deep in thought. She becomes aware of what she just said, too caught up in the subject to filter her words.

Her mind goes back to Namjoon talking about keeping his business partners’ privacy, Joowon being scared of Minseok and how both him and Junmyeon were in that same meeting with Lee’s people and the rest of the syndicate. There was a relationship between these three parties that she couldn’t figure out just yet, but it somehow led to the new boy, Sehun, being Chungjae’s bodyguard.

“Were you close to her?“ he asks out of nowhere. There’s a moment when she frowns, not understanding the reasoning behind his question. He raises one eyebrow "You seem to know a lot about her, I’m assuming you were a friend of hers”

She shakes her head. “No, we never met. I befriended Haneul a long time ago, he was the one who told me about it.”

“Did he also tell you he was going to shoot Chungjae?”

“No. He’d been going shooting range, wasn’t hard to figure out. His sister was murdered and he got treated like he was delusional every time he tried to fight for further investigation.”

He nods, running a hand over his neck, pursing his lips for a second. The next words to leave his mouth are unexpected.

“I really hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Rina.”

She frowns and blinks, he speaks up before she can say anything.

“It’s just an honest thought. Let’s leave it at that. I remember how you got when you had a feeling about things. Let’s eat some ice cream and change subjects before you get all sulky overthinking and start ignoring me.”

The night flies by under easy talk about school, Detective Seo, this side of the city where it’s normal for people to be awake at ungodly hours and the weather. When she walks him to his car and lets him know she’ll walk home, he looks so disappointed she feels like she just stepped on a puppy’s tail.

“You live around here?” he asks.

“Kind of, I like walking around,” she shrugs “You should go home and sleep.”

“And are you going home too?” he asks, pouting a little as he looks over her shoulder “It’s really late and something tells me trouble follows you around”

“I don’t get in fights every night” she laughs “I’m… just on a roll, it seems. And all the ice cream made me sleepy, I’m going straight to bed” she says, rubbing her full belly. She wants to get out of her clothes too, jump on Haneul’s shower and then go to sleep, she won’t even dry her hair, she’s already planned it out.

He leans his head to the side, giving her a quick inspection through narrowed eyes before coming to terms with it.

“Alright, but you have to take my number and give me yours, I won’t pass it on unless you want me to, promise.”

She thinks it over for a moment before giving in and waits for him to save it. He texts her the ghost emoji, looking up at her through his lashes as he presses send with smiling eyes.

She can’t bring herself to smile back at him, whatever ease she felt with him moments before dissipated, and it’s clear he’s noticed from the way a serious look takes over his features.

“I know what you’ve been thinking about,” he tells her, blinking patiently at her. 

“Do you, now?” he nods

“We’re not related to Lee’s people at all” she laughs mockingly.

“Who’s even we, Yixing? I’m guessing it includes the guy protecting Chungjae, right? ”

“He wasn’t protecting him, we knew was gonna cause trouble, but not about his relation to Im Nayeon.”

“Who’s we, Yixing?” she presses, not wanting to sound desperate. "What’s this whole _we_ I keep hearing about?”

“I’ll gladly answer any question you might have when you’re willing to answer mine too.” he says, smiling sadly when she looks away from him and scoffs “You’re not the only one who has a reason not to trust”

“What does that even mean?” she asks, leaning her head back just a little. “What, am I threat now? Minseok and Junmyeon are inside the syndicate and I’m some uni student, for god’s sake.”

“Not any uni student gets Kim Namjoon to call her his protegee, or gets away with bringing guns inside the Wings hotel” he says, watching her carefully, waiting for any reaction “That’s quite a title to hold in this city, but I don’t think it means you’re not to be trusted, or that you don’t deserve to tell your side of the story"

It’s clear that despite the whole business relationship they’re weary of Namjoon like any sane person should. She hasn’t stopped to consider what they could think of her ties to Kim Namjoon.

“But some might not agree”

“Some don’t. You understand now. I personally believe it’s just a matter of communication, which is why I want you to know that if there’s anything I can do to get your trust, I’ll do it. As long as it’s possible for me to do so, of course.”

“What are you, some genie?” she laughs, shaking her head in disbelief at his take on things.

“Not at all” he smiles softly “But I was thinking I could help you out.”

Out of anything that he could’ve suggested, this is the last thing that would’ve crossed her mind. It’s tempting, really tempting now that she thinks about it, but not in the way he’s seeing things. He smiles at her curiously, knowing he has her attention.

“A question“

“Tell me.” he pushes.

“It’s Haneul. I watch over him when I can, but I can’t be there with him all the time. Do you think he could get protection?”

He stares her for a moment, calmly inspecting her before nodding.

“With this whole thing going on the case will probably be reopened. I’m sure it can be arranged. I’ll look into it. But what about–”

He’s cut off when she takes one, two steps in his directions and surrounds him with her arms. It’s rushed and tight and it makes him jump a little

Slowly but surely, he puts his arms around her and presses them against her back just as tightly, so tight she can feel the loud gulp he makes against the side of her face as she inhales the smell of his fabric softener.

“I’m just glad to see you,” she says, taking two steps back. The smile on his face summons his dimples as he laughs out airily.

“I’m just glad to see you too. Let’s not let that much time go by before we meet again, alright?”

She takes a step back and nods. She already knows, as she turns on her heels and takes the opposite direction, that it’ll be too hard to stay away from him and the sense of familiarity that he exudes after tonight.

“Oh, and Rina?”

She stops and turns back around to face him.

“I like the new name.” he nods “But _Rina…_ that’s all you, nothing could replace that.”

She looks to the side and then back at him.

“Drive safely, detective Zhang"


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a week of ups and downs life is back to its normal pace, but the weather forecast has been wrong a lot these days. What does it take for a little chaos to ensue? Answering the wrong call? Trusting the wrong stranger at a party? When the city is not big enough to not to make her cross paths with them again, can it be called a coincidence this time?

_**081118 - 06:43 pm** _

The small pools of rain water staining the sidewalk are there for her to walk on, disturbing the reflection of streetlights that were turned on earlier from the lack of sunlight, washing away the remains of dirt staining the rubber sole of her boots.

Her phone is already clutched in her hands when it starts ringing, and she comes to a halt just to check the screen, a part of her hoping to find the silent blocked number calling again to pick up and maybe get to hear a voice, very much against Yixing’s petition to be careful. He looked particularly upset about it a few days ago when they met up for coffee near Haneul’s place.

It seems like her secret caller has forgotten about her. Her eyes scan the familiar sequence of numbers and she presses the device against the side of her face with a sharp—

“What?”

Deep laughter spills through the line, making her eyes roll back into her skull.

_“Still sensitive about our last conversation, I see.”_

“What do you want, Namjoon?”

_“I heard you paid the boys a visit last night and I couldn’t help but feel curious about what brought you around.”_

“I’m pretty sure Yoongi told you. It’s not like I did it in secret" Or like his men would keep any if she asked.

_“I wanted to hear it from you, though.”_

“It?”

 _“Have consequences of your actions settled already?”_ she scoffed.

“Do you want me to say I’m shaking in my boots so that you can jerk off to the sound of it? Is that it? Is that why you called? Doesn’t the Kim Namjoon have anything better to do?”

_“Always so crude, sunshine.”_

She sways on her feet and turns to give the street a once over, some driver is cursing at someone that parked in the middle of the street, subconsciously wondering if he really thinks he’s about to ruin a perfectly calm Friday of running errands to officially close the semester.

“Ah. I get it now.” She says, a little calmer now that she’s figured out the true intention of his phone call.

 _“Just now?”_ he sounds disappointed _“I imagined you already knew since you came looking to_ buy _a gun. That was insulting, by the way, but I guess not even you are that good at seeing things beforehand. Losing touch?”_

It took all of her dignity to reach out to them after her dramatic exit from the hotel. She was sure most of them heard about her going off on him for setting her up to face Junmyeon and Minseok. 

He kept insisting it had nothing to do with him, which after a few days of thinking about it sounded a little bit more realistic, something that she didn’t bother to consider when she walked out with steam coming from her nostrils, not before letting him know she had info on his candidate’s poster boy of a son, and that she would get it released one way or another. A stupid thing to do on her behalf, yes, but she had her reasons.

She figures if Namjoon wanted her dead, she’d already be wrapped in plastic at the bottom of the river with chains wrapped around her thick enough to keep her corpse from ever coming to the surface.

Still, realization has her becoming fully aware of her surroundings, the stream of people walking past her, a woman brushing past her as she furiously speaks on her phone, the tinted windows of cars parked next to her, a German shepherd on a leash across the street with its nose against the side of a trashcan, the city itself comes into focus instead of being a little blurred out in the background of her thoughts.

It begins now. The chase.

 _“Come home,”_ he says out of nowhere. She would die before letting him know that her throat clenches just a bit at it. _“Stay here until things calm down. A pocket gun can only do so much to keep you safe.”_

The word comes out out her mouth as a snort “Home.” rolling her eyes, her lip curls up in amusement “I’m a stray cat, we don’t have those.”

A heavy sigh comes from the other side of the line, almost sounding like an older figure almost, but not just yet giving up. _“Have it your way, then. Just know the doors are always open.”_

By the time she hangs up and looks back, as if it vanished off the street with the owner, the dog is nowhere to be seen.

Conversation in mind, she walks inside the building with more urgency than she originally meant to. This hardly her first time walking inside The Seoul’s Chronicle, but it might as well be from the look the receptionist gives her over the top of her glasses and the displeased stretch of her red-stained lips.

“Tell him it’s Jiah. He’ll know”

The real first time she came around was a gloomy summer afternoon not too different from this one thanks to some silly assignment during freshman year. It was also the same day she met Kim Kibum for the first time, an look of disinterest on his face when he saw her sitting inside his office, pulling on the ribbon of her brand new moleskine notebook and looking around the place with curious eyes.

Most importantly, she remembers the exact moment he, before even hearing her name and just from looking at her, decided she was not worthy of his time.

She decided to prove him wrong.

Long story short, she witnessed a group of people ask for more time on an investigation of some pharma company that had been recently accused of raising the price of a drug used to treat leukemia, and once they left -after being given the scolding of their lives- she told him to give her three days.

They met two days in a crowded cafe, she slid a cactus shaped flash drive between his macchiato and her iced American. A few personal emails exchanged between employees at the company proved that they had recently discovered that just by changing the name of the drug they were legally allowed to sell it for up to 20 times its original prize in all of South Asia.

That’s how a very strange but functional agreement between the two started; she’s given the freedom to investigate into whatever she wants and Kibum makes sure it gets published. The first months he was wary about her, prying on her and asking around for references until he gave up trying to figure out what means she used to get hold of information and connect ties.

He eventually made his peace with the fact that whatever mess of a life she had was none of his business, as long as she came back with a story for the Chronicle.

To avoid suspicions, she usually avoids the building like the plague and that’s probably why Kibum looks like he hit his toe against a corner as he walks out a group of men and crosses eyes with her, taking in a little breath before throwing his head back, letting out an ugly extravagant laugh at whatever one of the men say.

She holds in a laugh at how funny he looks dressed in camel corduroys, with his parted mop of hair hanging from the sides of his head and thin specs next to old men in suits and shiny shoes. They seem to be charmed by him, walking out of the buildings and taking the annoying tap of their shoes with them.

The receptionist sits up a little straighter behind her desk when Kibum walks over, wiping sweat from his hands.

“Mr. Kim, the lady says she has a meeting scheduled with you today—”

“Yes,” he nods, clearing his throat and turning to look at her just as she walks over, too, carefully examining him. “Jiah, right?”

He closes the door and pulls the blinds down as she looks around his office. She remembers it being a little bit fuller with stuff from the nights she’s been here when the place is vacant and she can steal swiveling chairs from the cubicles and spin around the place freely.

“Are you crazy?” he hisses at her, walking behind his desk and crossing his arms as he leans in a little. 

This is the Kibum she’s used to, the Kibum she’s learned to somehow grow a little fond of with all of his love for overacting his disappointment and tiredness and his melodramatic gibberish. She’s a little relieved at his reaction, fearing for a moment that he had been replaced by some sort of cyborg that smiled too easily.

“You weren’t answering my calls, and why are you acting like you don’t know me? Some people here have already seen me come in before, it’s dumb.”

“I specifically asked you not to come here until things calmed down, especially not during the day”

She plops down on the seat across him and grabs a heavy, fancy looking pen from his desk.

“Things have calmed down. They’re so calm Lee Chungjae is living his best life in France pretending to care about free education. He’s taking pics with Rihanna, Kibum, _Rihanna_.”

He leans over and snatches the pen from her hands, pointing it at her. “You know these things take time. What were you expecting? That they locked him up as soon as the news came out?”

Earlier today she told Haneul the same thing just to calm him down, now she knows how he felt.

“It’s been a week already”

“Correction, it’s barely been a week” he moves a cardboard box resting on his chair and puts it on the ground, pushing it under the desk with his feet before taking a seat with a loud groan like he suddenly aged 20 years just having her here “And stop bouncing your knee like that, it’s making me anxious. Jesus, what is it with you today?” She looks around, ignoring him, suddenly realizing something.

“I could ask you the same thing, smiling at corporate zombies… why is your stuff inside a box? you even took down the fake Basquiat, are you quitting? Wait— no, that’s not it” she leans in, looking at an open tab on his desktop displaying the office decor tag on Pinterest, making her frown “They wouldn’t let you go when they’re this busy, people around here fear you for some reason, what’s going on?”

“I’m moving to a new office,” he says, hurrying to press the x on the browser “Jongsuk was fired today”

“What?”

“They’re making him say he’s leaving on his own will. Talk about freedom of the press, huh?” he laughs bitterly, tapping his temple and shaking his head.

Now, that is something to be surprised about. The Chronicle’s had the same chief editor for almost twelve years now and it’s supposed to be one of the country’s most respected newspapers, the fact that someone with enough power moved the right strings to get him fired just as means of revenge sets a chill on her spine. 

It’s a petty but very clear act of revenge, she wonders what else are they willing to do, how far they’re willing to go.

Saddened by the news, she sucks her teeth “What’s he gonna do?”

“No idea. He showed up earlier today and left as soon as he gave a speech. Everything is on hold until we get further instructions.” He pauses, squinting at her “Why do you look like you haven’t showered? Finals?”

“Done, I’m a free woman” she breathes out.

“So why are you in my office? Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep, going back to your family or I don’t know… getting drunk with your friends like a regular uni student? I’m very busy, as you can see.”

Her hand silently slips inside her backpack “If you’d answered my calls, I wouldn’t have to be here.”

“Are you—” he locks the door before lowering his voice to a hiss “Why the fuck did you bring a– what the fuck, Jiah?”

“I told you to be more careful and this is what being careful looks like, take it” she says, placing the gun on the desk and sliding it towards him. It barely brushes the side of his keyboard.

“Are you crazy? Don’t— ” he opens a drawer and pushes it inside like it’s in flames, shutthing and leaning his body away, pressing one hand to his forehead, voice going a pitch higher “I don’t even know how to use that thing!”

“You aim and press the trigger, it’s not rocket science.” she rolls her eyes, lowering her voice and shrugging “Hopefully, you won’t have to, but it’s just in case.”

“That’s sweet of you to care but shouldn’t you be worrying about Im Haneul? Or are you just giving out gu— how did you even get one? Wait, no, you know what? I don’t want to know. Maybe Minho was right about you, what kind of shit are you into?”

“Fucking calm down, It’s just pocket gun, you could use it as a key chain, it’s not like I’m gave you a rifle. And H is about to get into witness protection, if you must know, that’s why I’m giving you something to protect your skinny ass with. Thank you, Jiah. You’re welcome, Kibum”

He bites his lip, looking at the closed drawer with resentment before squinting at her.

“You’re serious about this… is there something you’re not telling me?”

“It’s always better to be prepared. You know what they say about peace and quiet…”

“I don’t” he deadpans “Is that some kind of mafia lingo?”

“Like the calm before the storm?” he blinks, she huffes “Just what the fuck has Minho been feeding you exactly? He really doesn’t want me here, huh? I should pay him a little visit to his cubicle and—”

“You’re not going anywhere near my staff.”

“Your staff? He’s a sports editor, I’m sure he can be replaced.”

“Alright,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose “Are you done?”

“I am” 

“Lovely, you know the way out”

She stands up stretching her arms, giving him a once over “I do a lot for you, be nicer to me.”

“I am nice to you, I didn’t get you thrown out by security”

She almost chokes a little as she laughs in disbelief “You— when you get a Pulitzer thanks to me, you’re handing that shit over.”

“Focus on getting your degree and we’ll talk,” he tells her, waving his hand in the air at her “…and take a shower, get a drink, do drugs, get laid, I don’t know, you’re a uni student, not Chelsea Manning. Live a little.”

“I prefer Lisbeth Salander” he openly laughs at her “…but thanks for the life advice I didn’t ask for.”

She opens the door to find a certain 5’80 man with his fist in the air and a startled expression on his features that instantly relax in recognition “Oh. Hey, Jiah. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys were— ”

“Don’t worry, Jinki, I was just leaving” she tells him, pointedly looking back at Kibum in _see? I told you people around her know me._

“Hadn’t seen you in a long time.” One thing about Jinki is that even when he’s Minho’s best friend he’s surprisingly always been friendly to her, in a polite and guarded manner, but still nice. Something tells her he doesn’t know any other way to be.

“Yeah, been busy here and there. He’s all yours” she smiles, moving away and signaling him to get inside first “Don’t forget what I said, be seeing you” she says clicking her tongue and giving Kibum finger guns before closing the door behind her.

The smell of bleach greets her as she rushes inside Lady’s Room, pulling the door behind her so that it closes quickly instead of the slow usual swing, wiping away the remains of water in her hair and maneuvering a plastic bag filled with boxes from everyone’s favorite thai place. She’s stuck under the threatening glare Wendy sends her from behind the white counter they use as a reception.

“Don’t even think about it, boots off.”

She’s never felt so grateful that she chose to buy the ones that zip up, toeing her boots off and grabbing them by the little hangers, putting them behind the counter.

“How come he gets to keep them on?” she says as she makes her way to the back, finding Seulgi leaning around Taemin, seated on the third chair with a black cape covering his body and his hair all foiled up.

“Clean shoes privilege,” he says, lifting his feet up for her to see in the reflection of the full-sized mirror resting against the wall.

“It wasn’t raining when he got here.” Wendy says from the front.

“Didn’t you say you’d wait until the end of the year to burn your scalp up?”

It’s hard to take him seriously with the dumb cape and the foil on, she has no choice but to pull her phone out to take photographic evidence for future use while he’s distracted explaining how he read somewhere that hair bleaches better when you’re stress free and that there was no better time to do it than at the end of the semester.

“And of course you believed it.”

“It’s true, actually” Seulgi nods “It’s also better when you’re in a good mood. That’s why I don’t like to do people’s hair right after they went through a breakup, the chemicals get all messed up.”

“Well, it’s not like he ever has to worry about breakups.” She mutters. “So, blue?”

“Silver,” Taemin says, pulling his arm out of the cape to put his phone up for her to see a picture of some model with wet, dark strands of grey hair that she walks over to look at closely, not before stealing a mask from one of the little cars to cover her mouth. She’s always hated the smell of ammonium. “Not too light, I don’t think that’d work well with my complexion.”

She inspects his face in the mirror, trying to imagine the final result on him and hums “Nonsense, you’d look good in anything, buttercup” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure. You gonna cut it, too?”

"Depends on how it turns out. Are you coming to Sana’s party with us?”

She groans, plopping down on a couch across letting her bag drop on the floor next to her.

“Yerim’s coming too, come on, it’s the last party of the semester, the last party before I graduate.”

She’s not swayed by his use of _last something before I graduate_ , a card he’s been abusing the past few months.

“I’m too tired to go home and get changed. Life has been sucked out of me. I’m out of human interaction juices. I’m dry.”

He makes a petulant noise, not buying her excuse. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing? You have your leg meat out, that should be enough.”

Seulgi slaps the side of his neck with her glove-covered hand, muffling a chuckle, repeating the words under her breath. “Leg meat…”

“This is why I told you to make Lady’s Room a lady’s only space.” She says. “But you didn’t listen to me, when do you?”

“Interesting that you assume you fall into that category, but go on.” Taemin says, she gasps in mock indignation “And isn’t that discrimination?”

“Please, it’s not like men are rushing to get in,” she mutters as Joohyun comes from the back, holding her laptop in her arms, walking past them with her work face on that means she is not to be bothered.

“Actuall, we had a male customer this Tuesday and he walked out very satisfied with our services,” Seulgi speaks up, almost immediately Taemin and her let out synchronized snorts.

“Stop it, you two” Joohyun orders from the front, shaking her head.

Seulgi finally catches on, making a little noise before rolling her eyes.

“He wanted a full on transformation, so we went with silver” she carries on, inspecting one of the wrapped strands, poking it around with the pointy edge of her brush “It looked pretty good on him, it suited his vibe”

Taemin coos "His _vibe_? Is that a crush I smell?”

“No” Seulgi shrugs “I’m just saying he had a nice personality, he was easy to talk to, I thought maybe he wanted to buy in because he kept asking questions about the salon”

“Well, if anyone can pull it off, it’s our Taemin, and if he doesn’t at least it’ll fool people into thinking he’s got a personality.” She nods.

He sticks his tongue at her “And to think I was going to introduce you to someone tonight…”

“I’m heartbroken.” She yawns “I wasn’t planning on going anyway”

“You should go.” Joohyun chimes in, trailing behind Wendy. “You could use some relaxing.”

“What is it with people treating me like I’m some boring little bitch lately?”

“Have you considered that you’ve been a boring little bitch lately? We barely get to see you, you were supposed to help us search for a new place” Wendy says lazily scrolling on her phone as she sits on the chair next to Taemin’s and spins in her direction.

“And you missed the anniversary party”

Closing her eyes and pretending to be asleep she pouts, not having any kind of comeback ready for that. Lady’s Room second anniversary was a month ago and it was supposed to be a big deal. No one was really expecting it to go so well when Joohyun came up with the idea a year after she graduated, and now they’re in need of a bigger spot.

Seulgi steps in for her “Cut her some slack, she brought food, that’s I’m Sorry in Jiah’s language”

“Ok” Wendy accepts way too easily “There’s nothing wrong with being boring, Yerim can always use a boring figure in her life to keep her in check”

“I’m not going to a party to be on Yerisitting duty, that’s Sooyoung’s thing.”

Taemin squints at her as Seulgi’s orders him to stand up and pushes him towards the hair washer chairs. “So you’re coming?”

She feels Joohyun nudging her with her knee, surprisingly not scolding her about being unprofessional during work hours when she lays down on the couch resting her head in her lap, she does complain about getting her skirt wet, but it’s clear she doesn’t actually mind when her fingers go for her scalp.

“Tae, If you ditch me for one your instagram famous friends, I swear to god–”

All she gets as an answer is Taemin’s cries of help as he stomps on the ground like he’s being drowned, all the while Seulgi has the time of her life rinsing his hair.

* * *

**_11:59 pm_ **

You would assume the only child of the owner of the massive half of the one of the city’s biggest building firms who also happens to own a bunch of clubs around the city can afford the luxury of throwing an open bar for the night with actual, real, quality alcohol.

It’s probably Taemin the one her annoyance should be directed to since he convinced her to come to a place she knows it’s always filled with sweaty bodies, drunk and mostly broke students dancing their worries away under the high contrast of dark corners -like the one she’s in- and dazzling strobe lights.

Because, hey, nothing attracts her demographic like free alcohol, even if it’s watered down.

Party Yerim is getting close to her final stage, wiping her sweaty hands against her thin shiny thank top and curling her fingers against the cue and leaning back, tongue poking her cheek, drawing it back and letting it hit the ball. Whatever move she pulls off sends the small crowd into a fit of excitement, swallowed by the loud music coming from the dance floor.

It was her third game of the night, her competitor a buff bear type of guy with hands the size of Yerim’s face that leans his head to the side in defeat, brushing off his friend’s palms as they mockingly try to cheer him up and wipe away his tears.

He appears when the lights switch from red to green.

“You don’t play?”

All there is for her to do is turn with surprise and apprehension written all over her face and body at the sudden intrusion. Her newest companion’s lips quirk up a little at the edges, the kind of entertained smirk only people with the gift of being attractive that love seeing people affected by their looks can muster. 

She didn’t think too much of the guy when Taemin introduced him earlier, too busy listening to Mina talk about her internship in Spain that would start next year and how she’s already taking private Spanish lessons.

Right at that moment Taemin decided to disappear, all pout and annoyed eyes, leaning into her to mutter how he cannot stand the company of people who know where they’re going in life.

“Not with an audience.”

Not a minute has gone by and she’s already bored by him and the ridiculously open neck of his striped shirt that practically shoves the edges of his pecs into her face with him standing close to her like this. He doesn’t strike her as a total himbo, but why give him the benefit of the doubt?

Right?

The comfortable silence could be just her being awfully good at focusing on Yerim, and she surprises herself with the sound of her own voice.

“So, what do you think? Are our archaic celebrations living up to your expectations?”

He laughs openly at her reference at Taemin’s introduction about him being from some preppy art school, hiding his face behind his cup and shaking his head in denial. It’s hard not to notice how pleasant to the eyes the man is, warm glowy skin that stretches down his neck nicely as he throws his head back just a little.

Surely it can’t hurt to strike a conversation with someone who isn’t drunk off his ass, she has to give him some credit for approaching her when she had her _don’t come near me_ face on.

“You don’t actually think he meant that, did you?” he almost looks worried for a second there and she shakes her head, looking away before it becomes too obvious she’s been checking him out.

“I know him all too well to take anything he says seriously” he snorts, muttering something she doesn’t bother to decipher. “But I am curious about you art school kids.”

“This one goes to my friend who I love and is the best, Jiah!” Yerim calls out, pointing the cue at her like a sword, sending her a noisy, sloppy kiss. She half winces half smiles, pretending to catch the kiss and put it over her heart.

“We have watered down drinks and play pool too. We even play beer pong from time to time” he nods when she gasps in faux surprise. “Shocking, I know, don’t let others now. Some of us even like to stand by the corners and act like we’re here against our own will.”

“Let me guess, performative introversion?”

Fuck, even his laugh is attractive, she’s starting to get annoyed. He shakes his head, looking around and pausing for a moment -not too abruptly to weird her out, but it’s still noticeable- as he turns his whole body towards her.

“Jiah, right?”

“Just like girly shouted for everyone in the room to hear, and you’re Jongin, one of Taemin’s dancing friends.” he quirks one eyebrow up.

“Not a fan of us dancing friends?” she pretends to think it over, leaning her head to the side and shrugging it off.

“Not a fan, not a hater. I’ve learned to coexist with your kind. It comes with the Taemin package. How come I’ve never met you before?”

Being stared down makes her feel a lot shorter than she knows she is. His eyes stay put, not going anywhere from her face, but she can feel that for a moment he’s not in their conversation, like a temporal, almost fleeting absence coming from his part. Then he’s back, his focus on her thrilling.

What’s his deal? And what will it take for her to figure it out?

“It’s funny that you mention that. I’ve actually known about you for a long _long_ time now.”

His tone has a light hearted teasing undertone, but his eyes tell her there are layers to the meaning of his words. She looks back at him, seeing what else he’ll give her, because he’s not going to get the satisfaction of her full curiosity being a cryptic little shit even if it’s oh so tempting.

He breaks the tension by looking over her shoulder just as something light is placed on top of her head; a brown cowboy hat. He takes his time adjusting it, finding a comfortable spot next to Jongin, looking too satisfied with his crumpled shirt and oily strands of hairs sticking to his forehead.

“Speak of the devil” she says, tilting the hat upwards.

Suspiciously cocky and cheery, Taemin slaps one hand against Jongin’s shoulder and rubs a palm against his chest, giving the place a once over and finally finding Yerim.

“I thought you said you refused to be on Yerim sitting duty tonight”

“Someone has to do it, and since you’re too busy with party favors…” using some of the condensation on her cup, she swipes a blurred out red stain under his jaw with her thumb, much to Jongin’s amusement. “Your fly.”

“You all baby her too much” he mutters, moving his head to the side to make it easier for her to clean the spot while he zips himself up with a light tug. “Someday you’ll have to set her free”

Said girl walks over, shoulders swinging, chin high in the air.

“Got tired, champ?”

“Of beating ass? Yes, What’s the point when there’s no competition? I had to give the boys a little break.” she sighs, allowing her to put the hat on, wearing it like a crown. “I was feeling bad about you sulking on your own here, I didn’t realize you had company”

“I didn’t either” Taemin says, looking between the two of them with a spark in his eyes that mean he didn’t miss the interaction going on before he interrupted.

“I was about to tell Jiah that maybe I could show her the studio one day since she’s curious about us art school kids.” Jongin says smoothly, and she almost frowns at how smooth the white lie slips from his lips.

“She sure is” Yerim mumbles, licking a grin into her face and pretending to scan the crowd with interest.

Before she can say anything, Taemin adds in his own part. “I wouldn’t count on her, she’s always busy these days, disappearing between hours, not answering her phone.”

She snorts at the accusation “Sure, I bet you were dead worried.”

“Shut up, okay? We were” Yerim said, pushing her a little and making her stumble to the side. She didn’t nearly drink enough l to lose balance so easily, but Jongin keeps her balance with one hand against her lower back.

“You two act like I went missing” the hand presses a little before it’s gone.

There is definitely something going on with him, and she doesn’t think he’s just trying to sweeten up. 

“It felt like it. If you weren’t neglecting us doing god knows what, you’d know I got the internship at the Seoul’s Chronicle.”

She flinches and straightens her back “What? You got the internship?”

Taemin frowns, rolling his eyes “Try to control your happiness on my behalf, best friend.”

“I thought they were pushing off the results because of the change of editor, Kibum said–”

“Kibum is the new editor” Taemin interrupts “The list came out yesterday.”

It would feet nice to have Kibum’s stupid little insect face instead of the half-empty cup of warm beer and let her hand crush it.

“I’m sorry” she sighs. “I’m happy for you. Just disappointed in myself.”

“Wait until next year like everyone else does, you nerd” Yerim huffs.

At this point, Taemin’s resentment has visibly faded, he still peers at her from under his lashes.

“You know, I think I saw Minho around…”

The name puts a frown in her face but she forces herself not to show much of a reaction, Yerim is quick to jump on defense mode.

“So? fuck him, he’s so last year.”

Taemin puts his hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Let me finish. Maybe you and Jongin could walk around, let him see you together. You know how his ears get red and his eyes bulge out when he’s angry? Do it and you will be forgiven for not being immediately happy for me.”

She half laughs half scoffs “I think I can survive without your forgiveness. What’s that grown man doing here anyway? He’s so embarrassing”

He raises both eyebrows. “You didn’t mind when he had his grown man tongue down your throat but if you insist on knowing–” he jumps out of nowhere, putting his forearm in front of his torso in defense, making her chuckle because she didn’t even move at all “Some interns invited him and he comes to hear people tell him he doesn’t age.”

Surprisingly, neither Jongin or Yerim are against the idea, joining Taemin’s side and borderline encouraging him. She brushes them off, parting ways and going for the bathroom when the trio suggest moving to the bar.

With her back towards them and walking in the opposite direction, she doesn’t see the look one of them sends her as she turns on her heels, or the way he meets eyes with someone by the upper floor, leaning over one of the balconies.

In the bathroom a group of girls chat loudly as they lean over the big mirror over the sink, reminiscing some night when one of them flushed her underwear down the toilet of some club. They walk out happily leaning against each other, leaving her on her own after a quick exchange of friendly smiles.

It doesn’t hit her until the cold water from the faucet touches her clammy hands, if she could be anywhere right now, it’d be a place where there was no possibility of running into Minho.

But teleportation isn’t a gift she was born with, life would’ve gone a lot different had it been like that. She laughs at her own train of thought, fighting the urge of splashing her face with some cold water and dries her hands, hearing the door open followed by a click that once again seal the bathroom from the noise coming from outside.

Like a shift within the temperature, a noticeable change in the air when it hits you you’re not on your own, she looks up at the mirror to her left and catches him in the reflection, stalking over her with purpose.

Her mind is racing and her arm shoots towards one of the bottles filled with watered down soap and squirts some at his face, the man stops covering his eyes with a hiss but still manages to grab her forearm and throw her against the sink, snatching her small bag in a single movement and throwing the metal chain strap over her, tugging it until it closes around her neck.

Bent back forcibly, something round and firm presses against her lower back. His knee, against her, like he’s trying to figure out if he can break her in half before she finally runs out of breath.

The hands she used to stop herself from crashing against the glass slaps around, desperately gripping the chain and pulling on it to relieve some pressure, had it not been for the thick choker she’s wearing, her skin would have cuts by now.

_Dumb, dumb, dumb. You walked in like some naive girl. You know better than that._

Now all she can see is the ceiling, bones turning to jelly, her brain running out of blood, head inside a cube that swallows up all of the sounds surrounding her. There’s a distant slam and a thump and finally, release. Catching herself on the sink, gasping for air as she doubles over, almost crashing her face against the mirror for the second time.

Two dark figures are intertwined on the floor, all twisted legs and sounds of struggling. Some girls who walk in turn around with loud screams, not wanting anything to do with the situation, all she herself can do is stare at the scene in front of her until her legs feel like moving again.

She recognizes the red, blue and black stripes of his button up as he uses his legs to choke her attacker.

Jongin.

Now it’s clear to her that this is much more serious than some random assault, not even Namjoon’s men years ago when he tried to test her moved like that, she has to get out there. Fast.

“Rina– wait–”

She turns, throws a fist, it gets stopped mid-air and he doubles over as she brings her knee up to his crotch and tries to escape again, only for him to grab her in the middle of the hallway, next to a couple who look like they’re seconds away from having a go at it under the poor lighting.

“Rina– please hold on.”

He stops for a moment, still recovering from her blow with a grimace on his face, shoving one hand inside his shirt and pulling a long necklace out. It’s him, clearly calling her by that name, not her having hallucinations. Four letters, one word, a slap to the face.

She’ll never get used to it again, will she?

“Look” he borderline begs.

She still struggles against him, not being able to do anything but look at the charm he holds up. The silver band morphs into two bony hands that hold a mint colored ball. When she looks up at him with bloodshot eyes, recognition written in her face, he nods eagerly.

“I’m not here to hurt you, but _they_ are, we have to get you somewhere safe now”

She nods, huffing out a breath, relaxing her limbs and leaning against the wall, feeling him back up from her and breathing in before completely shifting her stance.

So she runs like her life depends on it because it does, bumping against people here and there. There’s a backdoor somewhere she remembers from some situations that should definitely not be crossing her mind given the circumstances, it’s either that or raw instinct that guide her to said exit and her way out into the humid night, swallowing a big breath of it and almost coughing on the gasoline flavored air when her eyes focus.

God, whatever version of it is out there, is definitely not letting her get away with this so easily.

The years have conceded him an extra couple inches, or maybe he owes it to the thick soles of his boots that scratch loudly against the loose gravel on the concrete floor as he stops, mirroring her shock for a blinking moment.

She reaches down and gets creative grabbing the nearest thing she can use as means of protection, a rusty, long and thin metal thing that’s heavy enough to give her some confidence. He stares at her, no traces left of the awe she saw before, his gun pointed at her face.

“Drop it” he barks at her “Hands up, turn around and try not to be so fucking difficult. In that order.”

She snarls at herself, jaw tightening until her mouth hurts and throws the stick to the floor, turning around to face the musty wall. The last thing she sees is a ripped off poster of an underground rap collective act before he pushes her, and she manages to turn her face around before he smashes it against the bare brick wall, forearm against the back of her neck with no mercy, hand looking for a weapon she’s not carrying.

“That’s for being so fucking stupid. Do you realize what you got yourself into?” he growls, not giving her a chance to answer before he pulls her back from the back of her shirt and pushes her against the wall once again.

This time the side of her face is scratched against the rough surface.

“Ow– What the fuck!” she complains, uselessly kicking her feet against the ground. She’s done with men pushing and pulling her around for the night, scratch that, the rest of her life. “I’m not even– fuck was that for?”

“That’s for making mom worry about you, you idiot.” 

The door opens again, from the corner of her eyes she can see Jongin, or as she just labeled him as, the impostor, walk out and open his eyes in surprise at the scene in front of him.

“What are you doing? We have to go.”

She turns around just as Jongin pulls Chanyeol off of her, taking a few steps back, thinking it over before running this time, too weary now that guns are part of the scene.

“We don’t have time for–”

Whatever Jongin is about to say doesn’t make it out of his mouth, both their expressions and stances shift in front of her eyes, almost robotically so. Chanyeol lifts his gun at her yet again, this time with full purpose.

It’d be ugly, she imagines, being shot this up close. Her brains will end up not only scattered behind her but also his clothes, shoes, maybe even his face. It would be if he did it. The Park Chanyeol she knew didn’t have it in him to step on an ant or kill a spider even if his mother ordered him to, let alone shoot someone. He could be an asshole sometimes, but he was the best version of the men she dealt with during her younger years.

But there’s the unavoidable fact that they might as well be strangers right now. She doesn’t know this man she’s looking straight at, who the time has turned him into, just like he doesn’t know her or what she’s seen and done.

“Go ahead” she breathes, rolling her shoulders back. “Do it.”

His finger twitches over the trigger, but his eyes… he’s not really looking at her right now. She might as well be made of cellophane.

The soft hum that rips through the air is imperceptible like a paper cut; the awfully familiar sound of a silent bullet. She feels herself being pushed forwards, right arm reaching out to catch her weight against the ground and missing, gravel digging into the skin of her knees.

There’s a second shot, louder, closer. All she can focus on is the uncomfortable pull coming from somewhere on her lower right.

“Dae hyung’s here.”

“You get help her there, I’ll go after him.”

She waits for the pain to come but there’s only the sound of her heart hitting her eardrums.

“Eyes open” Jongin orders as he pulls her up from under her arms and then keeps her up with one around her torso, hand pressing on the wound with some kind of cloth. He’s leading her somewhere she has no awareness of. There’s no escape because the world has narrowed down to two walls that close up on her. “Shit. I’m trying but there’s a– there’s too much. She needs to get to a hospital. Hey– Rina, you see that car there?”

She doesn’t, really, not at first. When she tries to focus she sees the shape of someone opening a door, the reflection of headlights into the pools of water on the dark alley blinding her. 

Body ‘s starting to scream at her to get somewhere warm. Thick ice wrapping around her limbs. How– how’s she supposed to move like this? She doesn’t want to go like this. There’s too much to do, she refuses to go down in a place where people go to piss or make out against a wall, let alone a fucking…

… A fucking hospital.

“We’re getting you… safe…. but you… be awake…. where… taking you… right? take a… on us… now…”

Someone else grabs her. There’s something cushiony under her. She looks down, registering the red sticky mess she’s making on the seat. It’s red, it’s everywhere. It’ll fill up the car in minutes.

“Great” she mutters, the impostor still doesn’t shut up about eyes open. “Now I have to deal with this.”


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past demands to be brought back. She refuses to be held accountable.

_**081218 - 05:12 pm** _

Do you have a place you’ve been to a thousand times before? One that always manages to make you feel like you’re trapped inside a cycle that you go over and over and over, and no matter how far you go, how safe you feel, you never really escape from?

A long time ago, she truly believed there was a cure somewhere, an antidote, a prescription or a calculated list of habits -healthy or destructive- that would help her get rid of it that place. Time and several failed attempts made it clear that she has it tattooed to the inside of her lids, and that it’ll always wait for her to get to a deep enough stage of unconsciousness to play itself like a broken record machine.

And if she can’t live a life without it, the least she can do is hold on to knowing that it’s just a dream. Nothing but an ugly dream. When she opens her eyes, there’ll be no white walls and white coats, no cold needles invading her skin. She just has to ease herself into it and rise to the surface, slowly.

_“Rin, come on.”_

_“I don’t think…”_ a second voice fades mid-sentence _“… her… should call Jangmi”_

A single wet string slips from the left side of her face, tickling her temple. She knows she’s crying, can feel the wetness pooling at the top of her throat.

“Hey.”

This is wrong.

There the texture on the wall is not white but is close to it, she can smell a baby fragrance that is the antithesis of disinfectant and before she can let it comfort her a spike of pain surges from somewhere down below, demanding to be felt.

It’s all her drowsy state needs to morph into boiling anger.

“You’re being scary, say something.”

“Baek—“

Her arms finally listen to her and immediately seek something to grab onto with one mission: to inflict pain. They don’t usually leave her unstrapped to the bed and she’ll hold onto the satisfaction of a little petty amount of payback until she’s restrained again.

There’s a cut off cry of surprise, the crumbling of a guttural sound under layers of skin and bone that feel so frail and meek under her hand and only egg her on to press harder. Someone shouts, but she doesn’t mind, almost immediately a slam follows and she’s finally dragged back.

Or trying to, because there’s no way she’s letting go, they’ll have to cut her arm off or sedate her before that happens. She bows to this as her victim’s face puts itself together like some sort of puzzle: a small and shiny nose over a mouth that is wide open, allowing her to see a set of tiny front teeth, brown eyes that are blown out of their sockets and stare at her through wet lower lashes that stick together. 

They carry no fear, no hatred, just genuine confusion. Her fingers soften on their own and it’s all the person behind her needs to finally rip her away, the boys’ neck slipping from her grasp.

Deep gasps of air and a fit of loud coughs fill the room and she finally realizes the reality she’s woken up to, immediately digging her elbow in the chest behind her because she does not wish to be touched, does not trust herself near anyone right now when she’s staring at the boy she was just choking being helped by a taller one. Impostor.

“Fuck— ok— I…” more coughing, he plucks something pink and washed in spit from his mouth. Cherry gum. A huge amount. “I was not— expecting that.”

“I told you—” they turn to her at the sound of her speaking up, swallowing shakily and calming herself down before continuing “to stop chewing so much of that shit at once”

Everyone pauses. Assessing the situation. The person behind her that she refuses to turn around and face just yet lurks closer, ready to stop her if needed.

Baekhyun licks his already wet lips, swallowing and shifting his head to the side.

“Are we acting like your hands crushing my windpipe had nothing to do with it?”

They stare at each other for a moment, Jongin almost stumbles back at the sight of the grins they suddenly shoot at each other, hers just a tad smaller than Baekhyun’s, a little drowsy, but still toothy.

“What did you do to your hair?”

Baek’s eyes widen for a second before they soften, moving the hand that was massaging his throat to brush his hair and mess up the strands of silver. "You don’t like it?”

“Let me rephrase that,” she says, licking her dry lips “Did you go to Lady’s Room and talk to the girls?”

Silence.

“How did she—” she cuts the impostor off.

“He always touches his hair when he’s hiding something, and you asking how only proves me right.”

“Alright. See? Yeah. No.” Baekhyun says out of nowhere, standing up from where he was resting on his knees on the bed, putting one finger in the air “You’re not going Sherlock on us when you just woke up after getting _shot_. We still haven’t explained to you what happened.”

“Says who?” she cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Doctor’s orders”

 _Doctor?_ Her whole face scrunches “Yixing’s a cop and you’re a… doctor now?” Startled, Baekhyun opens his mouth and closes it into a pout, her tone upsetting him.

“What? What’s with that face? I could be a- why do you sound like you can’t believe— alright, I’m not, but Junmyeon’s lady friend is, she patched you up last night” quickly, he brought his foot to nudge the silouethe of her calf under the covers “Don’t you remember?”

Patched up? Would certainly explain the numbness of rebound pain coming from her side, yet her mind can only make up trying to escape, Chanyeol pointing his gun at her, being dragged into a car and having something pressed into her as her lower half got wetter and wetter.

Chanyeol pointing his gun at her. Firing.

"Why?” she asks out of nowhere, turning behind her and _flinches._

She’d recognize that face anywhere. And, ok, unfair, he hasn’t aged at all. She gapes at him, blinking once or twice. 

Disturbed by her state of shock, he forces kitten lips into a thin line, shifting back and looking at the boys. “You were being followed.” he drawls out carefully, eyes back on her, careful, prodding at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“I know that now” she manages to blurt out, Jongin has the decency to look a little ashamed when her eyes dart to him, narrowing slightly “And you’re not just some friend Tae introduced by coincidence.”

“You don’t understand. Those guys were following you” Baekhyun explains, putting himself between her and Jongin as if to steal her attention “We were trying to get you out of there before they got to you, then you got shot. _That_ wasn’t part of the plan, but, uh… _hey_ ” he finishes with half assed enthusiasm.

“ _Hey?_ ” Jongdae repeats “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, she didn’t die.” Jongin adds in quietly.

“I– thought” a flash of pain spreads through her throat “ _You_ were there, Chanyeol– he–”

“No no” As if reading her thoughts Jongin shakes his hands in front of him. “It was one of them. The man in the bathroom had back up. We thought there were only two of them, then another two showed up”

“I can show you the footage” Baekhyun adds in. 

“No, it’s fine.” she doesn’t think they’re lying about it, shooting her and then getting her medical help makes no sense anyway “But if you knew then why didn’t Yixing just give me a heads up?”

“He told you to be careful” Jongdae fixes his throat. “Several times, he said.”

Ok, that’s… that’s true. She just didn’t think much of his little reminders to keep a low profile and take care over the phone, passing it as just him being a good friend. 

But still…

“Why send him?” she points her chin at the impostor, a little more harshly than iended “Why didn’t he just… come himself?”

Her voice fades out at the end of the question, registering the fact that she sounds like an ungrateful bitch suggesting that Yixing has that responsibility to her and ignoring the fact that they did not have to help her and still did.

It’s still hard not to resent him for letting her get entangled in this situation on her own when she made it clear she needed her time. This isn’t even what she didn’t want, it’s worse. Where is he now?

“He’s out of the city” Baekhyun looks at her carefully, the way you look at a sick person who’s not making sense “Didn’t he tell you that, too?”

She wants to slap herself. He mentioned something about a trip to Busan, she just didn’t pay attention, too busy staring at her phone, scrolling in search of the creepy blocked call to show him evidence.

“Chanyeol” she blurts out, louder this time, turning around, hoping to find him in this room. She remembers. He said he’d stay behind.

“He’s downstairs” Jondgae matches her tone, leaning back in surprise at her sudden movement. 

“Aaah” Baekhyun groans “What happened to easing her into it?”

“Hey! I only came up because Chanyeol couldn’t leave Sehun on his own and Jongin shrieked for help!” Jongdae fires back. “I thought it was an emergency”

“I did not _shriek.”_

_Easing her into it?_

In the middle of Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s loud bickering, Jongin’s calm, almost shy voice calls for her attention, scratching behind his neck. “Are you hungry? It’s getting late, Dr. Oh said you lost a good amount of blood, you should try eat something”

Try? She’s _famished._ Just the thought of food consoles her a little. Food first, just to see what they have to offer in this house, then she’ll figure out her escape. Just from Baekhyun’s hesitance to leave her alone she can guess it won’t be that easy. 

He has no option but to give her some private, standing up from the bed with the sheet wrapped around her lower half to prove to them she can stand on her own just fine. Jongdae explains to her the doctor she’s yet to remember had to cut off her shorts, so it’s just underwear from the waist down for her. 

The bedroom is comfy in its own messy, boyish and nerdy way, in true Baekhyun fashion. After learning how long she’s been out for —about 15 hours— the only thing on her mind is contacting the people she knows are waiting for her call, and she does just that when Baekhyun finally closes the door, changing into a pair of fresh underwear and sweatpants lent by him.

She ignores her panties caked in blood, throwing them in the trash.

When she asks for her clothes puzzled looks are exchanged, they insist they’re unwearable, she insist it doesn’t matter. Evenntuall Jongdae comes back with a black plastic trashbag with a suspicious smell. Her bag is another story, lost in the middle of the bathroom fight.

She’s more worried about the disposable nokia phone she pulls from the inner pocket of her chopped shorts. Some brown dry blood is stuck to the buttons, and she gets her hands on some baby wipes? -questionable- to clean it up before dialling the number.

_“Wildcard?”_

To her great relief, he picks up at the second ring. Closing the bathroom door behind her, she winces at her reflection in the mirror. She looks like someone who went through it, which makes perfect sense.

“Casablanca.” she exhales “How’s the east coast?”

 _“All quiet”_ he answers immediately. He has no news for her. 

“Good. Remember the address I gave you?”

_“Yea. Want me to keep an eye on the area?”_

“I’ll but you breakfast, sweet and savory” she says.

He lets out a sound of delight _“I was gonna do it anyway but you got yourself a deal. What should we expect?”_

“Anything, that’s I want you to just keep an eye on it, can you do that?”

_“Shouldn’t be a problem.”_

“I mean it. Don’t engage, don’t look into it, you report to me and forget about it, ok? This is my business, not yours. That clear?” she looks up at the ceiling, waiting for a convincing answer.

_“Loud and clear.”_

“Keep me updated, take care, Casablanca. And say hi to the dream team for me. Be careful”

_“We’re always careful, wildcard. I’ll let them know. You take care, too.”_

She can’t help but close the bedroom door behind her as quietly as possible, carefully taking in her surroundings. Wooden floors, a huge set of stairs that lead to a lower floor, oddly enough not parallel to the arrangement of the place.

An elongated skylight that she looks up to as she starts to walk down the stairs fills the place with natural light, cursing under her breath when she realizes it’ll be a long walk down. Every step is more painful than the last and she bites her tongue, grabs the metal handrail like her life depends on it and follows the sound of voices.

It’ll take more than some painkillers to get rid of the pain.

The house, if it can be called that, is impressive. There must be enough space to fit her apartment three times, with enough windows, too many of them to not be a rich boring neighborhood. There’s a double-height living room to her right and a pool table under the roof created by the upper level to the left, but what she finds the most intriguing is a glass room, more specifically the huge bookcase inside and a wall that’s filled with six screens and two gaming chairs that are a big fuck you to the rest of the decoration. 

Ugly, they’re ugly.

Perpendicular to all of that she finds the kitchen.

Chanyeol leans against the granite top, munching on something that smells like caramel, face unreadable as he watches her walk in like a newborn human experiment.

“Heard you were begging to see me. How you managed to live all these years without me, now _that’s”_ he points a finger at her“an unsolved mystery, one of many”

“It was torture. I don’t know how I held up, honestly” she says flatly, shaking her head when he moves a bowl filled with caramelized popcorn her way. “Everyday I woke up thinking feeling like something was missing from my life, and _that_ something was Park Chanyeol.”

“Ah, you poor, poor thing.” He tsks, mockingly pouting at her “Heard you’ve had some characters keeping you company, though, so at least you weren’t lonely”

The bitter, nearly venomous undertone he’s giving wasn’t something she anticipated. Leaning on the kitchen island, trying to take her weight from her lower side and not wince while at it, she finds he isn’t even looking at her, and that his jaw is locked in a way that says he won’t be giving up on the passive aggressiveness anytime soon.

She brushes the sting off, can’t blame the guy for not giving her a warm welcome. Clearly he has his reasons. “You know what? I think I just heard they’re ordering pizza and I can’t be bothered right now.”

“Yep,” Baekhyun says, popping the word and slightly aggressively pulling the bowl from Chanyeol and throwing a threatening look his way. “We are having pizza. Question, how do you feel about eating dessert first?”

She eyes him, she’d eat about anything right now. “I can be persuaded”

Jongin turns around from where he’s been busy chopping something, putting a small bowl in front of her “Here, this’ll help”

Carefully, her hand reaches for a piece deep green leaf, blinking. Is it… spinach?

“Does she look like a rabbit to you?” Chanyeol asks. “Is that what she looks like?”

“It’s good when you’ve lost blood, trust me” he assures, grabbing a piece of lettuce with his bare fingers and chewing happily.

There are a lot of questions about the man Taemin introduced her to last night as his longtime friend that is _somehow_ related to the boys, possibly living a double life but most importantly, there’s something endearing about him that she missed last night and may or may not be making her feel guilty for being rude earlier.

She nods, moving to the sink to wash her hands. A thought comes to her. “Are you often in situations where you lose a lot of blood, Jongin?”

He slows down his chewing, she keeps an eye on him as she washes her hands under the warm stream of water.

“No, but my sister eats stuff like this when she has period, she says the lettuce helps her fall asleep too”

“I don’t think you can compare periods and being shot” Jongdae frowns. 

“Why not? Blood is blood.” Baekhyun asks. “And I’ve heard scary stories about cramps” There sound of a motorcycle outside grows closer.

“Nah, you can die from bleeding if you get stabbed or shot, I don’t think girls die from their periods“ Jongdae says, like the other three, he seems unfazed by whatever is going on outside. “That’s just blood being ejected because there’s no baby that needs it”

“She used to act like it, back in the day” Chanyeol points at her. “Got away with skipping school because of it all the time”

“Actually I think some girls have died like that” Jongin speaks up “It’s not usual, but it happens.”

“See? I told you it’s scary”

It’s just then that the huge steel door is slid open just enough for a tall man carrying a bunch of boxes of pizza over his shoulder to come in, closing it back again with a groan, complaining about the rails needing to be lubricated.

“This is the last time you use me as a delivery guy” he blurts out, dropping them on the counter, stopping for a second to look at her up and down. He’s stoic, just like he was at the hotel. “Mauve girl. Bet you wish you listened to my advice about not getting in the way of bullets, huh?”

She frowns, ignoring his remark to ask “Mauve girl?” 

Baekhyun taps her shoulder. “It’s your nickname, you were wearing a mauve jacket that night when Lee Chungjae almost got shot.”

The boys move like its protocol, opening the boxes and taking drinks from the fridge, Jongin mutters about waking up someone and walks out of the kitchen.

“ _Mauve_? Just say pink.” Rina snorts, taking a can of soda from Jongdae.

He claps loudly, pointing at one finger at Sehun, who just rolls his eyes “I told you it was pink”

“Back to the subject” Chanyeol interrupts out of nowhere, carrying on when she looks up at him curiously “You asked Jongin if he’s often in situations where he loses blood, what about you?”

“No, my life is hardly that exciting.”

“Ah, but half of the city’s freelancers are searching for you as we speak,” Chanyeol says, pulling on a long string of chees “And you looked too calm for someone who’s not used to getting shot last night.”

“Of course she was calm, it comes with the passing out” Jongdae retorts. 

“They’ve stopped looking, that’s for sure” she says, her focus back on folding another slice of pizza before tking a generous bite “And no, it wasn’t my first time either, this one burned through my _mauve_ jacket the other night. Fucked up my ear for a few days.”

Said man is gulping down a huge sip of beer, resting his weigh on his elbow over the counter. It’s a mystery how he manages to look even taller than she remembers him being. “Like I say, don’t go around getting in the way when someone is about to get shot and your ears won’t be compromised, kid.”

“Kid?” she huffs “Who are you calling kid? I’m probably older than you”

“You’re not.” Jondgae says matter of factly.

“Well, then that’s sad for you, you got disarmed by a _kid_ ” she says. Baekhyun chuckles around a huge bite of pizza, Sehun glares.

“You pretended to faint” he deadpans. “It’s basically cheating”

“No such thing as cheating in real life” she tells him ever so calmly “A girl does what she has to do.”

“Lies and deceit” Sehun shakes his head “And I even helped you get the guy inside that van”

“You better _not_ have touched the boneless one while I was gone” Jongin threatens, followed by a smaller man in sweatpants that stops in the middle of the archway.

Rina’s smug expression falls, looking back at him, waiting for anything except for him to take his sweet time blinking away from her and grumble out with the coldest of voices.

“Why is she down here?”

“She said she’s feeling fine” Baekhyun shrugs. “I’d be dying to get out of bed after 15 hours of sleep too”

Kyungsoo offers no answer, doesn’t even spare her or Baekhyun another glance and just takes the spot next to Jongin, grabs a slice of pizza for himself and completely ignores the heavy silence that fills the kitchen. Rina can’t look at anything but him, shock blending into something like surrender, quickly suppresing the hint of a sting behind her eyes. 

Chanyeol asking Sehun to keep an eye on something, someone or some place in particular helps bringing her out of the trance.

And then Baekhyun claps, making a breathy Ah! sound jumping from his seat.

“What?”

“I almost forgot!” he says “Dessert first!”

Jongdae groans but doesn’t move when he reaches for the fridge. “At least let her finish another slice first.”

"No, no, I’ve been waiting for her to see it" 

Baekhyun is adamant, shaking his head and crouching down. Chanyeol rolls his eyes, Sehun leans in asking what he’s talking about, Jongdae doesn’t look any more convinced but still walks towards one of the cabinets, looking for something.

“They’re on the left” Kyungsoo mutters, apparently the only one aware of what they’re talking about aside from Chanyeol.

“Eyes, eyes” Baekhyun orders, covering his eyes and pointing at Jongin and then at her. The brown-haired man gives her a careful look waiting for her to give consent, she shrugs, too amused to care about his greasy fingers near her skin. 

Soon, her eyes are covered by Jongin’s weirdly warm hands. There’s the sound of hushes and Chanyeol’s poorly kept in laughter, then a click.

“Ok, ready? Now”

She blinks away the flash of white when Jongin rips his hands away from her eyes, looking around and then down.

A cake. Pink frosting with strawberries at the perimeter with the colorful sprinkles that taste like nothing and a few candles but most importantly, bright glossy red letters.

She frowns, reading the message under her breath “Sorry you got shot on your…”

The word _birthday_ has all the letters stuck together, like the person who wrote it miscalculated the space and size of the cake and his writing. She gasps, looking up at Baekhyun, who is quick to duck when she grabs a strawberry and throws it his way.

“You jerk” she laughs. Grabbing another strawberry and throwing it at a Jongdae that’s doubling over himself in laughter. He doesn’t get to miss it, yelping dramatically when it hits his shoulder and falls on the counter.

“Yeah, it’s her.” Baekhyun nods in approval.

She backtracks “What?" 

"Don’t eat the frosting” Jongdae warns, recovering and sitting back up on a stool “He put in too much colorant and it tastes weird, like medicine.”

“Did you actually bake this?” she laughs, grabbing another strawberry and putting it inside her mouth. They’re sweet and juicy “It’s so… ugly.”

“Definitely her” Baekhyun says again, groaning in apparent pain and clutching his stomach. “You should’ve seen your face…”

“Do you think I’m some kind of _impostor_?” She demands.

“You have a whole new name, we had to make sure” he explains.

“Wait, so it was your birthday?” Sehun asks, grabbing another piece of pizza. Only Chanyeol seems to be interested in getting a piece of cake, taking his sweet time getting rid of the frosting with chopsticks.

She’s quiet, chewing the cake slowly. It’s not bad, actually, not bad at all.

“No, today is her birthay.” Baekhyun say

“Is it?” Jongin asks doubtfully, scanning her face.

“Yeah. August 12th.” he pauses “Wait, you didn’t…” the question trails off when all she does is shove another piece of cake inside her mouth, “You didn’t remember.”

“I usually celebrate it in December…” she says, playing it off like it’s not a big deal because it isn’t, right? The circumstances didn’t leave her other choice than to adjust and remain true to her identity. Time does wonders for detachment, and the name Rina wasn’t the only thing that proved that. 

“Damn, that’s fucked up” Sehun mumbles, gasping quietly when Jongin slaps the back of his neck. “What? I’m just saying that if I had a fake identity and two birthdays, I’d celebrate them both, who would stop me?”

He makes a good point. She leans in to quickly blow the candles that have started to drip into the cake. “It’d be hard to explain to other people though. Joohyun usually sends flowers, but that’s about it"

They don’t ask who Joohyun is, but that must be because they already know about her. She briefly wonders just how much they dug up.

“I have a question.“ Chanyeol says out of nowhere, crossing his arms and chuckling at whatever reaction he finds on her "Relax. I’m not asking the hard ones just yet. I want to know why you’re so sure they’re no longer looking for you?”

He’s been paying attention, maybe too much of it to her words. Yixing was definitely right about people not wanting to trust her. 

“I don’t think it’s me they’re looking for” she gets different looks of disbelief from the men around her, but in the middle of them all Baekhyun does is smile, sparkly eyes like he got the answer he was waiting for “He could’ve easily taken me down in the bathroom, but he didn’t.”

Chanyeol frowns. “You still got shot after that, and I’m pretty sure they weren’t just giving a warning.”

“Why aim for my hip?” she lifts one eyebrow. “If they wanted me dead, I would be. They think I’m of use to them.”

“I’m sorry, but how can you be so sure of that?” Jongin says carefully.

"I’m guessing you know by now about the investigation,” she says, looking around, eyebrows up, staring at Sehun and shaking her head “Lee Chungjae. Im Nayeon.”

Baekhyun nods.

“You’re the reason Lee’s campaign is falling to pieces, how could you be of use to his people?” Kyungsoo mutters, looking the most bothered by her train of thought, interpreting it as arrogance.

Sehun sucks a breath through his lips “Maybe it’s not his people who are after her”

“No, the reason is Im Nayeon,” she corrects Kyungsoo “I only delivered her message, the message she sent out because she knew her life was in danger. I was the messenger, and therefore, to anyone, I’m the only connection to her. She wouldn’t put her brother in danger contacting him, so…”

“Ok, now say all of that but actually getting to whatever point you’re trying to make” Chanyeol says.

“She’s saying Nayeon is alive,” Baekhyun says, looking and sounding too excited, barely being able to hold back a grin, he turns to her with beaming eyes “That’s what you’re saying, right?”

“Yes,” she says, intrigued by his excitement. “How did you—?”

“A week after her death, her name came up, just like yours.”

_Huh._

“What do you mean her name up?” she asks.

Silence.

Baekhyun visibly pales, smile falling to pieces and turning into an excuse of it that looks more like a grimace, although he does a somewhat decent job at putting it back on.

Her question might, without her meaning to, have struck somewhere. Something is going on, and from the way Jongin looks around like he’s waiting for a bomb to go off, and Jongdae and Chanyeol share a look, it’s something big. Only Sehun and Kyungsoo are doing a decent job at keeping their faces straight.

It’s so painfully obvious she almost feels the need to giggle.

Nayeon’s name _came up,_ so did hers, and coincidentally it happened close to when they were in danger. It’s obvious that someone put a price to both their heads, but the expression… it sounds off.

She pouts in faux confusion before they can suspect she’s onto them “Why would someone put a mark on a girl who’s already dead?” They visibly relax at her answering her own question.

“Shouldn’t you know that? You’re the one claiming she somehow survived that fire” Chanyeol juts his chin at her.

“Unless she wasn’t home that night” Jongin says.

“Except they found her body at her apartment, remember?” Sehun points out, out of all of them, he looks the most skeptical about the whole thing. 

Baekhyun doesn’t miss a beat “It was declared burned beyond recognition, and Nayeon didn’t have recent dental work done on her, so they didn’t even bother to do any x-ray comparison.”

“So what’s next?” Sehun asks. “If Nayeon is alive, what does that mean?”

“It’s a matter of who finds her first” Rina says.

“And it has to be us” Baekhyun adds. Jongin nods, Chanyeol doesn’t look too convinced, but there’s a glint of intrigue there “Rin, there’s something I think you’ll want to see”

“You know what’s strange?” Baekhyun mutters, the photograph she hands him is still warm, fresh out of the printer “None of her friends have posted anything about the investigation or the voicemails. That’s weird, isn’t it? If there was a possibility your friend was murdered, you’d be outspoken about it, right? You’d want answers, too.”

The girl in the picture is Yoo Jeongyeon, who was 23 the last time she was seen last year and attended the same university Nayeon did. The two of them have a few common friends on facebook and that’s about it, the only almost invisible string connecting the two of them.

“They could’ve been threatened” Rina reminds him, staring at Jeongyeon’s picture as Baekhyun tapes it to the glass board, next to the other seven missing girls they’ve been investigating about, all with the same vague connections to Nayeon.

When Baekhyun said he wanted her to see something, he meant to show her a strange, barely noticeable rise in missing women in the city that no one seems to care about, all of them college students with the ugliest of finances, just like Nayeon. 

A few hours ago another pattern was unveiled, they either have no familiy or no close connection to them, four of them orphans, two have somehow lost any contact with them, one is an exchange student from overseas. The last one, Jeongyeon, is the only one who seemed to keep in touch with her mother, who has been in a mental clinic up north for nine years, until she was transferred to a fancier one closer to Seoul two years ago.

“Still…” he mumbles, leaning his head to the side and reaching for his glass of iced coffee and looking startled when he only finds ice cubes. “If one of those girls at the salon were in that situation, you’d look for the truth, threatened or not”

Her stomach twists just at the thought of any of her friends’ faces being on the board. She’d turn the city upside down looking for them, but who’s doing that for these girls?

“It’s different. I’m getting a degree to look into things certain people don’t want me to. It’s what I’ll dedicate my life to, it’s what I do”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re way past just journalism” Baekhyun tuts, looking down at the bulge under her shirt where her covered wound is, letting her know that he hasn’t missed how she’s been sitting in an awkward position for a long time now, trying to put as little pressure on the area as possible.

“My point is, I don’t think we should be focusing on her friends like that, we’re not even focusing on these girls the way we should” she says, rushing to explain when Baekhyun opens his mouth at the suggestion that they’re pointlessly investigating their cases “Don’t get me wrong, there’s obviously a pattern here, but we’re missing… something? Nayeon was crystal clear, she left a message and everything, but these girls are all…”

“Silent?” Baekhyun offers.

“Yes.” she sighs, leaning back and looking up at the ventilation duct just above her head. They’re all silent, scarily so, it can’t be a good sign. 

"Maybe…” he mutters “Maybe it’s us not listening”

The glass room, that Baekhyun introduced as _the station_ , has no semblance of soundproofing, and so when the kitchen door is opened, they can clearly hear the low hum of voices, the sound of keys being dropped and groans of relief as shoes are taken off at the entrance.

It’s your usual just got home from a long day at work sound. An everyday domestic melody.

There’s a soft knock against the glass, the crystal door whistles as its being opened just in time for Rina to turn and look over her shoulder.

She doesn’t know what she expected, but it’s certainly not Kim Junmyeon dressed in casual attire instead of a suit like the last time she saw him, making him look a lot less intimidating. Like this, he looks more like an older brother checking on his siblings, a dad even, something she used to mock him about years ago when he was first prodding into the adult world.

“Baekhyun, it’s 3 am, I know this is how you live but she should be resting.” his eyes look as tired as he sounds, or maybe this is his voice now, she has no way of knowing.

Like Kyungsoo, he seems to prefer referring to her instead of making direct verbal interaction. It’s another blow stacked on top, she tells herself she can’t take it personal.

“Do you think I would be forcing her to be down here?” Baekhyun asks, offended. “No, do you think she can be forced to do anything she doesn’t want to? You saw how she bit that kid”

Word sure spreads around here.

Junmyeon walks in leaving the door open behind him. Rina thinks she sees a shadow walk past through the living room, but her attention is dragged somewhere else when he speaks up again, surprising her by turning to her and scanning her up and down.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she nods, and for some reason feels the need to look at Baekhyun as a reminder that he is here, too. “Thanks for asking, and for letting me stay here, too”

“It’s what we do” he nods, the implication that they’d do this for anyone else doesn’t go missing. 

“And for the lawyer too, the other day” she adds quietly. It shouldn’t be this hard to say thanks. Maybe she’s grown too used to doing things on her own and not asking for favors.

Although she can say she didn’t ask for anything, they just come up at the right time, something she’s yet to figure out why, because there’s no such thing as coincidences.

“You did nothing wrong.” he tells her. “The girl clearly needed help”

She nods silently, he buries his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, pointing at the board with his chin, pouting in curiosity “What’s this about?”

“We’ll explain in the morning” Baekhyun says.

“Yes, there’ll be a lot of explaining in the morning.” he looks at her, successfully letting her know without leaving any chance of denying his statement.

“I’m going to bed, you two should too.” he reminds them, stopping just as he’s about to walk out the door, “We don’t have a guest room, since someone decided to use it as a storage room, so I hope you won’t mind taking Baekhyun’s”

“She’s getting the coziest room in this house, of course she doesn’t mind” Baekhyun speaks for her, standing up and leaning over her to start shutting down the station. 

She turns around and sees Junmyeon on the reflection of the dark screen Baekhyun first turns off. He stands there for a moment, looking at them, chest sucking in some air and releasing before walking out.

A few hours and no semblance of nightmares later she’s closing Baekhyun’s door behind her. If she’s quiet enough and the place doesn’t have any kind of security system like she fears it could, she should be able to leave and go home as she planned before going to sleep and setting up an alarm on the disposable phone.

No one can be bothered to be up on an early Sunday morning, and hopefully won’t for a long time until she can figure out where her—

“Let me guess, looking for your boots?”

A very sleepy and messy-haired Baekhyun raises his hands in the air a little too late when she turns around in surprise to find him closing a door across the stairs behind him.

“I hid them, just in case you’d try to sneak out. Those are my favorite batman sweatpants, you know, can’t let you steal them from me.” he says, scratching his eye before stretching like a cat, groaning, eyes sleep swollen.

“I need a shower” she winces at how loud her own voice feels in the silence of the house, she lowers it, testing the echo as she walks down the stairs “And I already stayed here for too long. Can I have my shoes back?”

“Showers?“ he pretends to think over, nodding "We have plenty of those around here, I believe. And you can’t just leave on your own until we’re sure it’s safe for you out there, you’re not exactly in the condition to bite attackers either.”

“Are you telling me I’m not allowed to leave the house?”

“Not at all, let’s go, I’m giving you a tour to my favorite convenience store a few blocks from here.” he says, easily walking past her with too much enthusiasm for someone who just woke up, looking up at her through strings of messy silver hair “You can still make that cream cheese omelet, right?”

“You’re joking” she deadpans, already knowing he’s not.

“Rin, Rin, Rin… you should know I never joke about breakfast”

He really never jokes about breakfast, she’s reminded of this as he pays for a ridiculous amount of overpriced cream cheese. The cashier, a lanky guy with a bored expression on his face and huge red headphones swallowing up his ears puts everything inside a bag. She wonders if he’s grown used to Baekhyun coming at strange hours of the day and night to buy an absurd amount of random items.

He sends her a tight-lipped smile as he makes sure she’s by the end of the counter, shifting uncomfortably in his shoes. He refused to hand her the boots unless she made and stayed long enough to have breakfast. The lack of socks makes the experience even worse, but she tries not to think too much about how her feet are getting clammy.

“That’s way too much cheese” she tells him for the fourth time.

“We’re feeding nine grown men, I promise you it’s never too much of anything in our house” he tells her, turning on the car and pulling down the street.

“Nine? You want me to cook for _nine_ people? Do I look like Gordon Ramsay to you?” 

“I was thinking we could make a few big ones and cut them in pieces.”

“I’m still recovering, I can’t be playing cooking mama for all of you, I need rest”

“I’ll help you with the heavy duty stuff. Oh, I texted Yixing by the way, he says he’s coming straight over when he gets here” he says. “It’s been a long time since we all had a meal together, do we have enough chairs? Now that I think about it, it’s been a long time since anyone used the dining table. Poor thing. Her only purpose.”

She sighs, leaning her head against the window. It’s unsettling not recognizing this side of town, she would usually pride herself on knowing every corner of the city. 

“I hope you know I’m highly uncomfortable with this and I don’t appreciate you keeping my shoes hostage”

“Consider this your punishment for trying to leave without saying goodbye,” Baekhyun says as he leans over the steering wheel as he makes a turn, looking over at her and tsking. “Come on, it’s not that bad, it’s just breakfast, best meal of the day.”

“It’s not just breakfast, Baek, you know that” she mutters, closing her eyes to rest for a second. 

“Hey” he calls for her attention, curling his fingers around her wrist, bunching up the huge arms of his power rangers t-shirt. “It’s just us, no one will jump you or anything, I’ll be there and so will Yixing. I know things are a little awkward, but they won’t have to be once we all talk about this, yeah?”

The red light goes green after what feels an eternity, he takes a second before he realizes it, driving across the street, still not letting go of her arm. “You trust me, right? I’m hoping you do because I trust you. I really do, you know? No matter what.”

She gives him the softest of nods, the feeling that it’s not enough lingers. He still lets go of her, seemingly satisfied. For now.

It takes about two hours, a lot of cracking eggs, chopping ingredients and two failed attempts after finally finding not only the right playlist for cooking breakfast, but also the right pan in the huge selection Baekhyun had no idea they had. 

Jondgae’s the first to be awakened by the smell of food and the ruckus of Baekhyun starting a flour war. He makes it his mission to have everyone downstairs before the food goes cold.

They walk down one by one in different states of sleepiness, helping out with taking out plates in a weir synchronization as they try to remember the last time they had breakfast like this, joking about that time Jongin nearly set the kitchen on fire.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” Junmyeon says, standing across the kitchen island, eyeing a plate filled with crisp bacon that Sehun tries to keep safe from Chanyeol’s prying hands, asking him for the third time if he washed his hands. He looks like Jongdae had to drag him out of bed too, imprints of bed sheets crossing his right cheek, swollen eyes and messy hair.

She’s leaning her back against the counter, sipping on a cup of black coffee Jongin handed her moments ago, telling her she must be exhausted after not only cooking for all of them, but also doing it with Baekhyun. 

It’s a little too bitter for her taste but she’s grateful for the much needed energizing drink and how it washes out the bitter taste of the painkillers she took before they started cooking.

“Baekhyun wouldn’t give me my shoes unless I did it” Junmyeon’s eyes widen in surprise and she knows she’s about to get Baek scolded so she interjects. “But I would’ve done it either way, as a way of saying thank you for everything, so don’t be mad at him.”

“I—”

“ _Huh?_ What’s all of this?”

There is a soft giggle at the end of Yixing’s question as he takes his shoes off by the entrance, one hand grasping the edge of the door. A surge of humid heat comes from outside, a result of the sunny day and the remains of the rain from yesterday. It dies down as soon as he closes the door behind him.

“A feast,” Jondgae says, slapping one hand on his shoulder as he walks past.

“I’m guessing this miracle was all you,” he says, surrounding the island to engulf her in a careful hug, like he knows just how much she needs it “You ok? I tried to call you but your phone was dead, and then I called again and Jongdae told me you were sleeping beauty.”

"I’m ok” she laughs, entertained by the explanation. “Getting shot isn’t fun.”

He frowns and shakes his head, hands moving up and down her arms. 

“It isn’t. I’m glad you’re ok, though. I called Haneul– he thinks I’m just a detective, no need to worry, he seems to be fine, just so you don’t have to worry about him.”

She nods, adjusting her sweatpants as Baekhyun tells her to sit down already, since no one will eat until she’s at the table, a complete lie judging from Chanyeol’s bulging cheeks. He washes down the food with a long gulp of juice trying to cover it up.

The table consists of two seats across each other and then four on the remaining sides. Junmyeon takes the main seat. Chanyeol, Jongdae, Minseok and Jongin take a whole side, while Baek, Rina, Yixing and Sehun sit across them. Kyungsoo is the last one to sit down across Junmyeon, lazily scrolling through his phone as he sets a bowl with sliced fruit, a pair of thick-framed glasses perched on top of his nose.

There’s a loud moan coming from Baekhyun, throwing his head back, mouthing through the melted cheese “Just as good as I remembered”

“It’s really good” Jongin agrees, looking around the table like he’s waiting for a similar reaction. “Thank you, Rina.”

“Have you ever considered dropping journalism and going for—”

“Ok, don’t overdo it” She interrupts Yixing. The man chuckles lightly and focuses on cutting another piece as he nudges her knee with his, making it very hard for her to suppress a smile as she looks down at her food.

It’s good, but not _that_ good. 

For a moment, the kitchen is filled with the sound of ice cubes hitting against glasses and forks against dishes, low mumbles of _thank you_ and _can you pass me something?_ with the low hum of a lo-fi playlist still playing from the speakers, all the while she keeps her head down and tries not to think too much about the people around her, or specifically, a certain man sitting across from her.

Exchanged looks don’t go missing. Junmyeon ignores Baekhyun as he makes faces at him to do or say something. 

“I personally love uncomfortable silences during breakfast, I read somewhere they’re good for digestion,” Sehun says, completely ignoring the way Junmyeon stops mid-bite to give him a stern look. “Anyone else? No?”

“Don’t, Sehun” Minseok says.

“What? I’m not doing anything, you guys are the ones being weird. You all went emo every time she was brought up before and now she’s here and—”

“Sehun” Junmyeon says, putting an end to his rant, not without the younger man rolling his eyes first and resuming his eating with a sigh.

“Hyung, didn’t you say you wanted to show us something?” Jongin asks, not making it painfully obvious at all that he’s trying to steer the conversation away from the awkwardness.

“Glad you asked” Baekhyun says, standing up as he licks his fingers and wipes them on his shirt, coming back with the glass board behind him.

Yixing turns to the side in his seat, narrowing his eyes, pointing at one of the pictures. “I’ve seen her before, she's—”

“Missing,” Baekhyun puts his palms together, looking around the room “They all are, they’re also all uni students, and could be connected to Nayeon’s disappearance, maybe help us find her”

“Did I hear wrong or did he just say find her?” Minseok asks, resting one elbow on the table.

“Yep” Baekhyun points his finger at him “Nayeon is very much alive” he grimaces “Or… was, until her name came up, we’re keeping a positive mindset here. The thing is, there’s a huge chance she didn’t die in that fire, and before! Before you accuse me of being delusional, Rina came to the same conclusion on her own.”

“Is this true?” Junmyeon asks her, taken aback by the whole bunch of information Baekhyun just dropped on them.

“It was a gut feeling at first” she fixes her throat “The recordings? She gave them to a shipping company with her brother’s address days before the fire and scheduled the delivery so that he got them on the mail a few weeks after her– death.”

“The girl had a plan” Baekhyun adds in.

After the brief pause and still having their attention on her, she continues “She’s smart, she knew her life was in danger and went to such lengths to make sure her brother got those recordings, of course she would’ve tried to hide, and the people after her wouldn’t want to leave any loose strings, so it’s only natural that they would try to find her through me after the tapes were released.”

Junmyeon looks like he needs a moment to think through her words, licking the corner of his mouth and furrowing his brows.

“So that’s why you got them published,” Yixing leans back on his chair. “To see who would come out and look for them.”

She nods.

“And how did that work out for you?” Chanyeol chuckles “Now they’re on your ass, was that part of your perfectly calculated plan?”

“Let’s–” Baekhyun tries to interrupt.

But Chanyeol is relentless "Let’s let her know, otherwise she’ll continue to act all high and mighty just because she thinks she has back up.”

“What’s do you mean _back up_?” she frowning Does he think she was counting on them to save the day the other night?

“How do you think they tied those recordings back to you?” Chanyeol scoffs. “Your boyfriend snitched on you, didn’t even think twice before selling you out to Lee Chungjae’s team.”

An uncomfortable silence. Yixing sighs. Chanyeol has a twisted smile on his face, but he doesn’t get the heartbreaking reaction from her and he wavers.

“Boyfriend.” she blurts out flatly, suddenly stifling a laugh against her hand “You think… Namjoon is my boyfriend. Oh, that’s so… No. He gave out my name because I let him know I would do it, I specifically _asked_ him to do that.”

“You’re full of shit” Chanyeol spits, she shrugs her crossed arms.

“Believe what you want. I don’t exactly care.”

“Why?” he dares.

“Because sometimes, Chanyeol, being underestimated can work on your favor” she says slowly.

Junmyeon cuts in, not at all amused with their exchange.

“So you’re saying you knowingly put yourself at risk just to prove a theory”

“Of course not,” she says, wondering if he paid attention at all to what she said. “I knew they would come for me thinking they could find her through me, so I gave them something that would lead them to nowhere in particular. It’s not about if they follow the trap but who does. That’s why I wasn’t mad about them taking my bag.”

“And I’m guessing they took the bait, right?“ Jongin says.

"I’m hoping they did”

“And how does that work?” Junmyeon asks. “It’s been 48 hours already, you’ve been here the whole time, they probably realized you were just bluffing and moved on”

“I’ve got it covered, that’s also why I need to leave as soon as possible” she assures them, putting a grape inside her mouth, ignoring the various stares directed at her.

“You never mentioned anything about that” Baekhyun’s mumble surprises her. He has a look of disappointment or betrayal on his face she feels an urge to get rid off, and then she remembers that he’s knowingly keeping something from her, that they all are, and it’s related to her and Nayeon, for some reason.

“I’ve got it handled, I’ll let you know what I find.” she assures him, but he still looks put off.

Junmyeon’s authoritative tone almost makes her flinch, but it’s the amused little chuckle he lets out that makes her skin itch in annoyance “Frankly, I don’t think you’re in the state to be handling anything right now”

“Meaning what?” she wants him to really _try_ to do what she thinks he wants to.

“I agree,” Yixing says, not looking apologetic at all when she turns to him, it’s her time to feel betrayed “Even if you’re sure they think you’re of use to them, it obviously doesn’t mean they’ll stop to take you out”

“And it doesn’t mean I’ll let them do it either,” she says pointedly.

“Do you need to be reminded that you were carried inside an emergency room unconscious, bleeding out? This is obviously out of your hands. I won’t have your picture printed next to those girls on the board.” Junmyeon says, nodding at the board “Leave this to us, we’ll handle it”

She scoffs, in disbelief at how convinced he sounds he can just calmly order her to step down, expecting her to agree so easily.

“No. I made Haneul a promise, there is nothing you can say or do to make me step down from this.”

“It won’t be the first time you break one anyway,” Chanyeol says, an icy glare is directed at her when her eyes fall on him, arms crossed over his chest. It is now that her blood really starts to boil under her skin. If they think nine against one will make her bend down, they have a storm coming.

“I don’t know what’s your issue, but by all means, just spit it out, Chanyeol.” she tells him, as calm as possible, letting her fingertips rest against the wood of the table.

A deep voice has heads turning to the right. “You know what his issue is, don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” If Chanyeol’s voice was venomous, Kyungsoo’s tone feels like battery acid, and she realizes what this whole breakfast is really about; cornering her.

Baekhyun stands behind Kyungsoo, not uttering a single word, looking down at the ground when she looks at him for a second before setting her eyes back on Kyungsoo.

“Enlighten me” she tells him, crossing her arms and seating back.

“Few people Hwasong’s fire, no one made it out of the wing you were in, so how come you made it out alive?”

It’s so painfully direct, the question goes straight to the core and she’s out of breath for a second, stomach clenching painfully. She’d rather have every stitch rip open before letting him know how really tiny she feels surrounded by these men.

A hand falls on her wrist and she snatches it back, smiling at the man who waits for an answer.

“Stuck to the right people, I guess. You really shouldn’t believe official records, they’re often far from the truth, the prison system in this country is a joke.”

“So you became Namjoon’s bitch? That’s it? No complex escape plan?” Chanyeol asks, leaning his head to the side in mock curiosity. "I’m disappointed. I was expecting some prison break shit from you”

“Ok” Junmyeon interferes, putting one hand on the table. “That’s enough”

“Don’t worry, he’s gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get a reaction.” she lightens up her tone as she stands up, looking straight at Chanyeol “I get it, you know? You’re hurt. I see you’re still dealing with your abandonment issues but I’m not your father, and I certainly am not your mother, I don’t owe you shit.”

“God, Rina–”

He stands up, knocking the chair back, teeth bared and eyes already stained red. It’s so abrupt Yixing stands up beside her, Sehun and Jondgae doing the same, ready to stop Chanyeol from lunging at her.

“You let us all think you died!”

“You don’t know shit, Chanyeol, so don’t go throwing accusations at me” she tells him, trying to remain calm against his booming voice.

“Yeah, that’s the point. We didn’t know. Five fucking years, Rina. You let us mourn you for five fucking years. What the fuck were you thinking? Why would you do that?”

“You’re kidding, right? You want to do this? What the fuck was I supposed to do? The night they arrested me you got on that fucking car and sped down the street and you didn’t even look back. I moved on without resentment because I fucked up, but you blamed me for things that were not my fault.”

“You’re right.” he nods, face all red, voice hoarse “You fucked up. So that’s it? You’ll put your life at risk to prove one of your theories but you’ll run away from the people you once called family?”

“No, I stayed away because I was miserable back then. I fucked up but you– oh, _you_ made my life hell. I was a kid, I only had you so what the fuck was I supposed to do but take it?” she pauses, not realizing how much she needed to breathe “If things had gone my way, I would’ve never had to face any of you again. You would still be thinking I died and pretending you gave a fuck about it.”

Silence. She means to carry on but her throat is raw and the wetness in Chanyeol’s big eyes have her shutting her mouth closed so quickly her teeth make an ugly sound. The tears make them look a shade grayer than they actually are.

She’s aware of the change in the room, how Yixing is just right next to her and has moved away from her a little. Baekhyun is looking straight at her, wiping away a tear with the palm of his hand. It’s too late to stop now or look to any reaction from the rest of them, she’s gotten it out of her chest and it’s too late to cage it back up.

“I have a question, though, why are some of you wearing my rings? It really doesn’t suit this whole act.” she chuckles, perfectly aware of the bitchiness dripping from her voice, and how she’s only adding up to the growing tension.

If they want her to be the bad guy, she’ll be her just to entertain them. They can’t ask any questions if they’re too busy being as appalled by her as they obviously want to be.

Kyungsoo stands up, lazily blinking at the scene in front of him, walking past her and stopping just behind Baekhyun’s empty seat to slam something on the table. The metallic sound is enough to let her know she’ll see another one of her rings when he removes his hand.

And when he does, she stares at it hard enough to feel the sight of it imprinted on her mind.

“They meant something, back when we thought you were dead,” he says, stopping before chuckling softly, like a thought just came to him, lip curling up in cruelty. 

“But now that you mention it, I wouldn’t say you made it out of that fire. The Rina I knew is dead, you’re not her, not even a shell of who she used to be. I’m sorry, Junmyeon, but you’ve done exactly what you keep telling us not to, you brought a stranger home.”


	5. Chapter 5

**_082809 - 2:34 pm / 9 years ago_ **

_If days were colors, August 28th would be a different shade of gray every single year._

_It’s always like this. On tv, footage of bodies being carried out of debris, fire and people crying on the streets. Recently it’s candles and pictures of faces long gone, the president and his people giving speeches that feel repetitive. On the streets, it’s closed stores and people walking with their eyes down. At home, ever since that day two years ago, it’s been her father’s studio door closed and the sound of his fingers pressing on his keyboard at high speed._

_She knows he hasn’t gotten an ounce of sleep because she kept waking up last night to that exact same sound, but she’s yet to hear him complain about it._

_Her father is a funny man. He lives for the kids he teaches math to at school and his computers and lives for locking himself up for hours until he’s rubbing his eyes off with his knuckles so hard she fears he’ll mess them up. Somewhere in the middle of that he still has the time to harass her into eating things that will make her grow taller, stronger._

_She’s been doing just that lately, to the point where her legs hurt sometimes, a bearable kind of pain now that she’s almost taller than Kyungsoo. Yifan says it’s nothing to be proud of when he’s super short for a boy, and that she should start playing basketball if she really wants to have long legs like him._

_“Rin! Are you home? It’s me! Open up!”_

_Chanyeol, like Yifan and most boys, is too much for her sometimes. He’s never knocked on the door, always shouting for her to come out instead because he’s proud of his voice. He’s been extra mighty and proud ever since he turned 15 and started to use hair products and do his hair for school. There, he pretends he doesn’t know her._

_She wishes they could go back to spending their time between classes laughing with the boys like they did last year, but she has the feeling those days are over. Now he tells her to walk behind or in front of him on their way home from school, never with him._

_Her father raises one eyebrow, chuckling when she shakes her head no._

_“Don’t be rude to your friends” he scolds her. “You’ll be left without any”_

_She scowls, drops her chopsticks and mumbles about some friends but still opens the door to reveal tall and lanky carrying a box wrapped in soft mint green fabric._

_“Mom made rice cakes for Ms. Han but she’s not home, want some?”_

_There’s a no at the edge of her tongue when she sees a shadow tower over her._

_“Go, but I want you here before the sun sets. I mean it, Chanyeol.”_

_The boy crosses one arm over his chest and nods like a soldier._

_“Of course, Mr. Kang.”_

_And just like that, she’s out of the door with the shoelaces of her black converse tucked inside against her heels and she can’t help but feel like she was just pushed out of her own home, something she’ll bring up to Mr. Kang later. Weren’t parents supposed to do the opposite of that?_

_“I think he’s just not like most parents, what are you complaining for? I wish mom treated me like that…” Chanyeol says, it goes in and out of her ears without her paying mind to him, too busy trying to count back to the days when her father’s love felt a little it was slowly choking her, like layers and layers of winter clothes, or long lectures about the Never, Evers:_

_1\. Crossing the street without him_

_2\. L_ _etting go of his hand when going downtown_

_3\. Talking to strangers._

_Chanyeol’s hair is on its natural state because it’s summer break and he seems fine with walking with her next to him, talking about how he tried to break inside Ms. Han’s apartment because he heard his mother worry about her the night before. He lives across the hallway to the right, Rina likes his home better because it faces south and the light inside is yellow, not blue and cold like hers. It’s also a place where you can always get a warm, delicious meal, because Chanyeol’s mother is angelic like that._

_She knows he lies about not fitting through Ms. Han’s window because he once got inside Mr. Lee’s apartment to save his sister’s cat from eating his poisonous rats._

_It’s understandable why Ms. Han leaves to visit her daughter on this day because it’s probably too sad to stay home and eat on your own looking at the tv where all they talk about is death, the promise justice and mourning. She lost her husband on the bombings two years ago and they’ve never seen her smile or heard her call out to them in anger for making too much noise outside her door ever since._

_The arcade is not far from their building. Just a few blocks to the right, hiding in a street so narrow you can walk across with three of Chanyeol’s long steps -four or five if you have shorter legs- They walk inside through the backdoor using Rina’s backup key and find Baekhyun sitting by the counter with his feet propped up over it, reading some comic book that looks like it was ran over._

_He almost hits the floor when he tries to put his legs down in a rush, gulping loudly and eyes glimmering when he recognizes the box and realizes there must be some sort of sweet food inside._

_Rina has a practical seat up on the counter, Chanyeol finds two chairs for himself and his legs in the backroom and they start eating the soft goods. No one can’t be bothered to wash their hands when there are no grown ups around._

_“So how did you get her to come out?” It’s not a surprise that Baekhyun is the only one who can smile so bright on a day like this._

_“I’ve been busy.”_

_“Doing what? Sleeping inside a coffin? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in months, you’re gonna regret staying in so much once we’re back to school.”_

_She doesn’t try to explain that by then she should be done reading every single book her father keeps at home. Lately he keeps bringing in new ones, leaving them stacked up on every surface he can find, unaware of her taking them into her room only to put them back in place once she’s done with them, eating them up like apples._

_The last one was written by some American guy, about a country where firemen burn books. Baekhyun would like it, she thinks, if it had drawings on it._

_“Remember when I used to say I would marry your mom?” Baekhyun says, pushing another soft thing inside his mouth. “I still would. Really. Any day.”_

_Chanyeol kicks him under his knee, making the boy start coughing between fits of laughte, he used to take the joke of everyone having a crush on his mother lightly until that fateful day when, by accident, she walked out of the bath in just her towel not knowing Chanyeol had the boys over. Rina remembers standing in the hallway when they ran out of the apartment looking like they just got the biggest scare of their lives._

_“Why did you open today?” Rina asks out of nowhere, looking around. All the machines are turned on, lighting up the otherwise dark place, the a/c is on to the max so it’s not as warm as it usually is with all of them working at the same time._

_Baekhyun points one finger at the door, where the open neon sign is off. “It’s not open, I’m only here because I like it better than home. They’re all on because I don’t like the silence. Hey, you think Mr. Kang will give me a raise if I ask him?”_

_“Aren’t you only covering shifts for Yifan? Dad doesn’t even know you work here.” The boy lets out a noise of indignation, sitting up a little straighter like she just insulted his ancestors._

_“I’ve done my time here. I know this place better than he does by now. I’m more of an Arcadia member of staff than he is. I’m the general manager, I’m HR, marketing, I’m the cleaning and security staff, I keep the family of spiders at the back fed-”_

_A knock at the front door interrupts them, leaning over the glass with both hands covering the sides of his face, Jondgae points at the lock on the door, mouthing something about hurrying up. Chanyeol slams the open button, ignoring Baekhyun’s complaints about crossing boundaries and the two walk in, Minseok behind hugging a soccer ball against his side, dry blood on his left knee and his usually squeaky clean running shoes and socks all dirtied up. Jongdae is no better, face dripping in sweat and grabbing the top of his shirt to fan some air against his chest._

_“Are those rice cakes?” Minseok asks, sniffing the air._

_“Like I said” Baekhyun continues, walking behind the counter, using the same voice he always uses to convince people or get himself out of things “Arcadia is me. I am Arcadia. I know every game. This is like home to me. I deserve a raise.”_

_“If you love it so much shouldn’t your pay be enough?” Jondgae says._

_“Nothing is free in this life. Loving my job won’t help me feed my family.”_

_“Your parents do the feeding in your family” Chanyeol laughs, throwing a pen at him “You’re saving up to buy yourself that laptop”_

_“And i’ll get it soon if Rin asks Mr. Kang_ and _puts in a good word for me”_

_“Alright” she says, crossing her arms and lifting her chin, enjoying the way Baekhyun’s satisfied grin falls when he realizes there’s more to it “But you’ll owe me”_

_“Wow, what kind of friend are you?” he whines._

_“You said nothing is free in life.” Baekhyun groans._

_“Reading all those books has turned you into a manipulative little monster.”_

_“Speaking about monsters, we saw your boy about to get his ass kicked on our way here” Jondgae speaks up, pointing his towards his back, grabbing water from a paper cup “It was him, right, Minseok?”_

_The boy nods._

_“Looks like he pissed off Youngjae again. You know how he hates being stared at” Jongdae carries on._

_By her boy they mean Kyungsoo, who is nothing of hers other than a friend who manages to get himself in trouble when he does nothing to harm the people around him._

_“Ah, the knight in shining armor has been summoned” Chanyeol announces, watching her expression turn to worry. She chews on her lip and jumps to the other side of the counter, scratching the reddened skin on the back of her knees caused by the sharp edge “Wait, you’re really going?”_

_“Hey, just because you’re a girl it doesn’t mean Youngjae and his friends won’t beat you up along with him one day” Jondgae calls out._

_“Wait! You’ll tell your dad about my raise, right?” Baekhyun asks just as she’s about to walk out._

_“You’ll owe me” she says over her shoulder, disappearing from sight as she walks down the street._

_“Why did you tell her? Mr. Kang will be mad at me if she’s home late” Chanyeol groans. Jongdae is quick to whine about not being his fault Rina’s always ready to take on other people’s problems._

_Sighing, Minseok wipes his hands against the sides of his shirt and walks towards the door._

_“You too? Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks. Minseok only shrugs at them as he opens the door._

_“After her.” Jondgae mumbles, not surprised at all, but calmer now that the possibility of Rina getting hurt and the boys blaming him has reduced significantly._

_____________

**_081418 - 08:21 am_ **

**_Present day_ **

Kim Junmyeon stares at the silver, mid late 2000 phone, holds it between his thumb and forefinger. Attached to it hands a small pendant made of fake swarovski crystals that swing from side to side just like a pendulum. In any other situation, it would be the kind of object that sends him on a nostalgic trip to the days when life was easier, but there’s no room for such sentiment right now.

“Are seriously telling me that you weren’t able to get anything from this?”

This is a first for Baekhyun. It took him little to no effort to find every social media account under Jung Jiah’s name, her bank statements, her college info, pictures she’d been tagged in with friends, the business records of the beauty salon she owns with her friends, all of that just during the time it took them to drive from the Hotel to the house the Friday they found her on Namjoon’s office.

He first refused to deliver the information, claiming he would respect his friend’s privacy, but Chanyeol was adamant, having just stepped down from a flight when he got the call about the shocking news, insisting that pretending to be dead for years meant losing privacy privileges, and so they got a whole presentation of the new person she was, all in one session, that same night, right before Jongin came home from his night walk with Kato.

“He won’t. She wouldn’t have just left it behind if she thought we’d get something from it” Kyungsoo says, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, hands buried deep in the confines of his sweater pockets.

Any day before the confrontation at the kitchen Baekhyun would’ve jumped to speak on her behalf, but all he does is keep his eyes set on the textured window behind Junmyeon’s back. Only if you look close enough you would notice that he’s still bothered by the suggestion that she’s hiding something, it’s in the way he makes circles with his foot that’s hanging from where he sits sideways in the leather chair, and how he chews a little harsher on his cherry gum.

The rest of them are no better. Junmyeon can’t remember the last time he managed to get them all to come into his office, something most of them put up a fight with or moan and whine about even if it’s only downstairs. Now that he really thinks about it, every circumstance that has lead to all of them being at the same time in this specific room has been a shitty one. Maybe that’s why they all despise it so much, maybe that’s why he himself doesn’t even spend as much time here as he used to.

“My bet is she’s with Namjoon.” It’s all easy to Sehun, he shrugs it off like it’s the obvious answer

“No” Minseok who looks bored at the idea, purses his lips. “If she was angry at him during that phone call she wouldn’t go to him, she’s too proud.”

Sehun stands by his point. “Well, it’s not like she can afford pride right now, they’re onto her and where else could she be safe but with him?”

“Here,” Yixing says, next to Minseok, dressed in his work attire “She shouldn’t have left this place at all in the first place”

Junmyeon has to agree with that, while it’s true that any property under Namjoon’s name is protected like a fort, they still haven’t figured out his intentions. If one thing is clear to both him and Minseok in the midst of all of this, is that no matter the circumstances, Namjoon would’ve found a way to put her on the table.

Jongin speaks through a pout. “Do you think he’s planning on using her as a bargaining chip?”

“We don’t know for sure yet, but her being in the picture could change everything about the syndicate deal and where we stood.”

“I think you underestimate her too much” Jongdae sighs. He keeps insisting that she’s not as manipulable as they make her seem.

It’s been 36 hours since she left, Rina’s nowhere to be found and the watch on Junmyeons right wrist keeps ticking. The sound it makes is louder than he remembers it being, it makes the muscles at the back of his neck go stiff.

It’s been 36 hours. The number wouldn’t be so scary if her name hadn’t come up. But it did.

“Chanyeol,” he says in sudden resolution. The man looks up, hand stilling against Kato’s fur where he’s been scratching behind his ear, the dog looks up in disappointment. “Find her.”

Surprisingly, he puts up no fight and stands up, dusting his knees and keeping his eyes down. It’s no secret that it’s him who took the harsher blow after the fight, sulking in his bedroom, avoiding everyone, clinging to Kato for company and eating at weird hours where no one’s around the kitchen.

“Send hyung instead.”

Chanyeol’s wide eyes snap at Kyungsoo, then at Junmyeon.

Yixing traces his chin “I could try, maybe go to Haneul’s place, but I doubt she’ll listen to me even if I find her, not after I agreed on cutting her off the investigation.”

“Then what makes you guys think sending Chanyeol will help?” Kyungsoo frowns, very much against the idea.

“Because he’s the one who had the fight with her.”

“No. I started it, I’ll go.”

Junmyeon and Yixing share a quick glance and then turn to Minseok, who nods the slightest, either he’s barely convinced or he thinks it won’t make a difference.

“Fine, but if anything happens, are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?”

“I’ll go with him” Jongdae cuts in, walking towards the door, patting Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “We’ll bring her back”

“I don’t understand.” Chanyeol mumbles. Everyone stops to look at him like they forgot the sound of his voice. The man scratches behind his ear, reluctantly looking around “We can easily handle Nayeon’s case on our own, and the syndicate deal is already done with, what difference does it make?”

“Because this isn’t just about Nayeon or the deal.” Minseok says.

It takes a second for Chanyeol to react, blinking in confusion before realization hits him and his lips part open. Once again, his eyes falls on Junmyeon.

“We need to keep an eye on her.” he says, hands flattening against the desk and inhaling. “Until we figure how much truth there is to the rumors we heard abut Hwasong”

"Wait, seriously?” Sehun’s voice goes a pitch higher. “You’re gonna believe a conspiracy theory some kids posted on reddit? That’s what we’re doing now?”

“Well, I don’t know her as well as you do, but she did choke Baek on her sleep.” Sehun scoffs at Jongin, rolling his eyes and taking the disposable phone to press random buttons on it.

“She woke up in a strange room with men crowding over her after getting shot, she thought it was Chanyeol who did it, that’s sharp survival instincts, good for for her.”

“Conspiracy theory or not her name came up, she’s either going to do something stupid or get killed out there.” Minseok says, ending the discussion and nodding at Jongdae, who walks out of the room with Kyungsoo behind him.

When she walked out with no money, barefoot and only an address in mind, the last thing she was expecting to hear from Joohyun was…

“See, I don’t think they’re completely wrong” 

“What?” Jumping up indignation was not the best idea. A pinch of pain spreads out down there, a hissed curse escapes her mouth and she looks away to set her hand on Joohyun’s shoulder, hard.

From her seat on the toilet lid, Joohyun gives her the same look mothers give their children when they’re misbehaving in public, effectively shutting her up.

“Can you _stop_ moving so much? The gauze got stuck on one of the staples.”

It’s better to let her work around the wound in silence for a moment. Funny how she can barely remember the pain of actually getting shot and it’s only now that the wound is being a pain in her ass. The few scratches on her face and the purple bruise around her neck she can deal with, but taking a shower when it’s impossible not to get the damn thing wet is literal torture.

“If they’re offering to take care of things from here maybe you should let them, just for now, I don’t know… at least wait until you fully heal.”

She pulls out a small pair of scissors and finally, finally she’s free from the string that’s been making it a bitch to remove the bandages. With the borrowed hello kitty shirt all bunched up to look at the situation down there better she can only see red skin and a few staples keeping it closed.

“Give it ten days, maybe even less and you should be fine, they reopened the investigation today, that should give you time.”

She’s about to ask what exactly it is her father used to do for a living for her to know so much about gunshot wounds, but it seems she’s not done with her lecture, looking up at her and pushing her specs back.

“Would it hurt so much to trust them? I thought you were all inseparable when you were kids”

“What about the part where they’re obviously hiding something? And how they’re doing business with Namjoon?” there’s the usual look of disapproval when she brings up Namjoon.

She throws her hands in the air “So find out what it is. Look, they brought you inside their home, it shouldn’t be so hard for you to figure out what they’re hiding, it’s what you do.” she shrugs, using warm water from a bowl to clean up, ignoring the way she shifts in discomfort “And you can’t use Namjoon against them, you still keep in touch with him." 

"It’s different for me, though." 

"Oh, is it now? How so?”

“You know why" 

She’s not impressed with her answer, finishing wrapping her up before standing up, pulling down the sleeves of her loose button up.

"Look, they were assholes, but let’s think of it like this: if someone who you thought died a long time ago suddenly appeared, you’d want some answers too. It’s reasonable. They could’ve done a better job at asking, but–”

“But?”

“I think you should trust them. Or pretend to, until you figure things out.”

Life is always a little less hard to figure out on Joohyun’s kitchen, this is where a lot of things have been dealt with, like that time Seulgi got so drunk by accident Yerim actually thought she died, or when Wendy finally decided it was time to break up with her scumbag ex in a moment of clearance, so as they work their way around late breakfast, she gives herself a moment to really think things through.

“For some reason, you’re being biased about this.” she looks at Joohyun suspiciously from across the counter. Did Baekhyun put some sort of spell on her that time they met at Lady’s Room?

“Honey, you would’ve easily bled out without their help.” she reminds as she cuts a fresh avocado in thin slices “I agree, it’s weird, the thing with Lee Chungjae and how they act but there has to be an explanation. Have you considered all you need to do is sit down and talk about it?”

It would’ve been so easy to be convinced by her train of thought, but talking was out of question when things went wrong. Kyungsoo’s words left shivers down the extension of her back, Chanyeol crying while Junmyeon’s hand against his chest held him back, every pair of eyes on her, pressing her to explain something she doesn’t know how to herself.

She doesn’t want a repeat of that.

She’s always hated being pressured into things, always hated having to do anything in ways other than her own. Maybe this is why she’s never bothered to really cut ties with Namjoon, who despite his twisted ways and enthusiasm for mind games, has never really made her do anything she didn’t want to, and she’s sure he could’ve easily done exactly that from the beginning.

“I wish…” she pauses, takes a long sip of orange juice and sets the empty glass on her kitchen island, resting her temple next to it “…I was a normal girl”

Joohyun snorts “I’m sorry, what?” a little giggleat the end of her question.

“Just a normal girl. Having breakfast- no, brunch with her best friend. I deserve to have brunch with my best friend and, I don’t know, post a story on instagram”

"I hate to break it to you, but there’s a grave with your name on it and you despise Instagram. Normal is not something you can get away with.”

She looks up at her with an offended look, when Joohyun’s phone starts ringing. Her stomach plummets when she comes back, extending it at her with hints of distress in her usually calm eyes.

“Who is it?”

“Some kid. He just… told me to ask you about the east coast.”

Taking the phone from her hands and jumping from her seat, she hears the end of Joohyun scolding her about being careful before unmuting the call.

“What the fuck?”

_“Wildcard?”_

“How did you get this number?”

_“I tried to reach out to both your phones but they’re dead.”_

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

_“You went online from Joohyun’s Laptop, it wasn’t that hard to track your location. Did you see the files I sent you?”_

“You could’ve just waited. You can’t go around doing this kind of thing, what if I wasn’t just in some friends house?”

_“I wanted to talk to you about something else, I was looking into the protests around the thermal power station and I think–”_

“I’m not following.”

_“Can we meet? I think I found a big fish but it’ll take some time to explain.”_

She groans "Sum it up, then” _  
_

_“Something’s not right, the protester’s that are being detained left and right. I think someone might be spying on them, but it’s… off. I’ve never seen anything like it.”_

“Ok, is this one of your mass espionage theories? You know I love a good conspiracy story but I’m busy right now, I can’t help you.”

_“You can, actually. Not right now, but I heard somewhere Kim Namjoon loves golfing with some intelligence service guys.”_

“Fine, I’ll ask around when I can, just stay away from Bangtan and leave it to me.”

Joohyun’s absolutely creeped out by how young the voice she heard sounded and how he managed to track her number from thin air, and so it takes a moment to convince her to let her use her laptop again. She makes her promise no one’s going to hack into her stuff and puts several rainbow stickers she took from some kitchen drawer over the webcam before letting her use it.

It’s a video recorded from what looks like a surveillance camera pointing to some street. A black SUV with tinted windows parks on the side of the street, five men dressed in casual attire come out of it. The first thing that catches their attention is the angular shape they get a flash of as one of them closes the door and shows the inside of his jacket. They’re armed.

They go to the back of a shipping company car that’s parked behind and quickly trash everything inside, judging from the way the car starts to shift in its place until the two men that didn’t stay outside guarding step down. They look around while seemingly coming to terms with something and walk towards the apartment building on the other side of the street, parting ways again as two go for the main entrance and the other two surround the building.

She knows exactly where they’re heading to.

The next part of the video is shot from the inside of one of those apartments. They bust inside like the door is made of cardboard, she wonders what exactly they’re trying to achieve by being so fucking loud even Joohyun behind her flinches. They go for the kitchen, opening every cabinet, moving to the inside of a door that would lead them to the bedroom and do the same thing inside. They find it empty, of course, with no trace of Im Nayeon

They realize they’re set to failure after about four minutes of tearing the place down until one of the men going through the bookcase where the camera is set stops right in front of it, making them both freeze, as if they’re being stared at from the other side of the screen.

His face is hidden, half of it covered with a black mask. He takes a step back, raises his arms and aims straight at it.

And then the video ends.

Joohyun mirrors the same look of moderated surprise.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Go home, find her before they do.” she can tell Joohyun knows she still has no idea how she’ll do that, still, she nods.

“Alright, but try to think about what we talked about and call me if you need help”

She takes the bus home with the taste of painkillers lingering on her tongue, clutching a pen drive with the files in her hands, half regretting not having sent Baekhyun the videos. She doesn’t know where they stand now, the whole _thing_ feels too raw still for her to reach out.

One thing she can be optimistic about is knowing that whoever sent them has to be just as lost as she is if they’re taking her bait. She’s holding on to this one good thing when a sickening feeling goes straight through her, finally having reached her floor to find her door is open, torn down, the hinges still in place.

Only one thing goes through her mind: she has to get out of there.

Then she hears voices.

“I told you she’s not here.” he says hastily, sounding uncharacteristically shaken The next words come out and she knows he’s unsure, almost stuttering. “She could’ve… it’s a mess… maybe they–”

Eunjung walks out of _her_ place in bunny slippers.

“I’ll go get my phone, I think I have her friend’s number somewhere there– Oh, Jiah! thank god.”

She opens her mouth only to close it again. Next to her neighbor stands a very surprised Jongdae, and then there’s Kyungsoo who mutters a quick I’ll call you back against his phone.

“Are you ok? You look… pale” Eunjung asks, dressed in her hospital uniform, hugging herself like just the sight of her makes her cold. “I came back from my night shift and found everything like this… I-”

“I’m fine.” she says carefully. Seeing that the two of them aren’t about to say anything, she walks past them into her apartment, catching Jongdae quietly ask her…

“Could you give us a moment, please?”

It’s a mess. The same havoc caused in the apartment from the video, except they had a lot more to break, toss and tear down than back at that empty apartment. Her books are scattered on the floor, ripped pages tossed on the ground, her globe lamp crushed, the cushions of her couch turned upside down, in the kitchen the fridge door is open, jug of milk spilled on the concrete floor, trails of the white liquid mixed with dirt in the form of the sole of shoes lead her to her bedroom.

There’s no way she could’ve possibly guessed what she comes to find, letting out a gasp and slapping her hands against her mouth. 

“What?”

Kyungsoo must’ve had a similar reaction to her, because the question gets struck on his throat, finishing with a curse under his breath as Jongdae asks what’s wrong.

“Fuck, fuck… shit, Nosferatu…”

It’s a grim sight. The little beast hanging limply from her ceiling fan, body turning in slow circles, a ripped cord tight around his neck. With her chest heavy and something stuck on her throat she holds him up, hastily untying him with Jongdae’s quick help.

Taking him in her arms, she falls on her bed, fingers caressing the yellow fur and shaking her head in despair.

The chubby thing is still warm.

“What do I do now?” she mutters, taking a deep breath she doesn’t know she’s been holding, shoulders sagging.

“We can–” having completely forgotten she wasn’t alone, she looks up at Kyungsoo as he clears his throat, avoiding to look at the dead cat in her arms and pressing his lips together. “Bury it somewhere, maybe on our backyard…”

She shakes her head.

“Mr. Cho is gonna look for him, he’s gonna be heartbroken if he doesn’t find him, I– I can’t do that to him.”

He nods, looks around and picks up one of her pots of mint that’s scattered on the floor, placing it on her window like he knows it belongs there. He shifts on his feet again, crosses his arms and keeps his eyes down.

Nosferatu is laid on the fire escape, under the sun to keep him warm for a while longer, also a usual spot for Cho to pick him up from after his escapades when it hits her.

“What are you doing here?” Jongdae looks up in surprise from where he was resting her broken door against the wall and so does Kyungsoo.

“You left your ring” he pulls it out from the depths of the pocket of his jeans, placing it on her coffee table, next to the broken candle stands.

“Keep it. It hasn’t been mine for a long time” she says, closing the window, not bothering to spare the shiny object a glance. She knows what it looks like, she knows that she doesn’t want it.

Silence sinks between the three for a few moments.

“They wanted to send Chanyeol in, but I didn’t think it was right to make him do it” he explains.

She imagines Junmyeon must’ve had a guilt trip thinking it would be on them if they came to find her on a dump after leaving their place. The thought makes her let out a bitter, raspy chuckle, picking up a small container box from under her bed and putting useless stuff inside of it.

“Did I hurt his feelings that much?”

A hand grabs the opposite edge of the box, firmly enough to make her stop and look up.

“Stop” he snaps, staring her down with a hardened expression.

Jongdae calls his name from across, and Kyungsoo’s shoulders visibly settle down just the slightest, blinking the anger away, voice returning to that toneless nature.

“There’s something you should see”

Resting the box against her hip, she tilts her chin at him. “Funny, I was going to say the same thing”

She can tell that Kyungsoo rolls his eyes when he closes them for a second, pulling his phone out and giving it to her. It’s an article from a lifestyle magazine about some woman named Oh Minhee and her… house? Quickly realizing that it’s actually a screenshot, she looks not knowing exactly why they would show up to make her look at me some badly written intro to the morning routine of the back then director of the Museum of Modern Art and now minister of culture.

It seems like a lot of effort when he clearly despises her presence.

“Swipe right” Jongdae instructs with a jut of his chin.

The next picture is a close up of the front page of the magazine showing Minhee standing in the middle of her home, a perfect, laser cut bob framing her features. The next picture, though, is what makes it all actually interesting.

It’s an Instagram post from Myoui Mina, one of the missing girls Baekhyun tracked, dressed in matching white robes with her arm around Im Nayeon’s waist and another girl that looks about their age. She swipes back and forth between the screenshots and there’s no doubt of it, the same painting on the cover of the magazine is behind them, so is the same exact marble dining table at the bottom.

Finally, a real hint to follow.

“You know you can’t possibly stay here” Kyungsoo says, taking the phone from her hands, she drops her hand to her sides “and anyone you could stay with you’ll put in danger.”

She nods. A part of her, fueled by her wounded pride, tells her to turn down the offer and do this on her own, but she can hear Joohyun’s suggestion, so she sets the box on what’s left of her coffee table. A small act of surrender.

“Grab some stuff, just the basics for a few days. We’ll handle the rest at home so be quick, alright?”

Again, she nods. The edges of Jongdae’s mouth that are naturally curved go up even higher, his finger barely graze her arm as he walks past her.

“We’ll be outside.”

There’s something spine-chilling about the screen shot, about forty minutes later it’s been printed and stuck with washi tape right at the center of Baekhyun’s crystal board. The rest of the girls are aligned to the side.

In matching robes, showing all of their teeth in big, flashing smiles that make it hard to believe anything bad could ever happen to them, it feels like they’re looking at her to remind her she’s lucky she was out of her apartment this morning.

“Song Hana” Baekhyun says, pressing one finger next to the girl on the left. “She’s a business student, moved from America a few years ago, models for online stores from time to time”

“And she’s…”

“Somewhere out there” he rushes to explain “I mean, she’s not missing.”

“What about Minhee?” Jondgae asks, shifting pages through the magazine they’ve managed to get a hold of “She owns that house, it says right here she bought it two years ago, those pictures were taken a year ago.”

“Obviously, Minhee had some sort of girl’s night.”

“I’ve met her a few times,” says Junmyeon, tugging on his ear. He’s dressed like he has somewhere important to be, except his hair is all messed up the same way it used to be when he was stressed out and couldn’t keep his hands out of it. “She owned a gallery a few years ago, I bought a couple of pieces from her once or twice.”

“What was your impression on her?” Jongdae asks, putting the magazine down.

“Nothing out of place. She was very formal, always on time, she seemed to know all about her field, very put together.”

“It’s always the put together ones that are full of surprises.” Rina says “Song Hana seems a lot more approachable.”

“Yep, we’ve got dancing shoes on it.” Jondgae points at the door with an entertained smile.

At the door, Jongin makes sure one last strand of hair is perfectly arranged to fit into his messy hairstyle, dressed in a graphic tank top tucked inside black jeans. He looks up, taken aback by the attention on him.

Sehun walks in behind him with a sour look on his face, pushing past him with something big, furry with a long tongue hanging out of his mouth pressing itself against his knees.

“Who let Kato out?” Jongin asks, looking at him in accusation.

Sehun ignores him, muttering under his breath about him always getting the fun ones, raising his brows in fake surprise when he crosses eyes with her.

“Back so soon?”

“Shut up, Sehun.” Baekhyun says.

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Rina says, distracted by the dog.

“He walked out of Chanyeol’s room, I think he needed some fresh air” Sehun finally explains, shrugging. “Can’t exactly blame him.”

“Kato, come and say hi to Rina.” Jongdae calls, bending over his knees and calling the dog over with his arms.

The big king shepherd gladly does so, enjoying having his ears scratched.

“You sneaky bastard, you’re on probation and you’re still wandering around the house like nothing even happened.”

“We should get going, I’ll drop you off” Junmyeon says out of nowhere, pulling some keys out of his pocket, not before turning to look at her. “Make yourself at home.”

“Right, they trashed your place, how bad was it?” Sehun pipes up.

“They hung her neighbor’s cat over her bed” Kyungsoo speaks from behind Jongin, handing him something small that the taller man places on his ear, brushing strands of hair back into its place.

“They did _what_?”

“Jesus”

There are various sounds of discomfort and indignation.

“So much for thinking you’re of use to them” Sehun says.

She shrugs, feeling her chest heavy just thinking of poor Nosferatu, pulling the pen drive out and handing it to Baekhyun, who wastes no time plugging it in and browsing through its contents, it’s like his mouth watered at the sight of it. They all crowd around him with different looks of interest.

“Is this your place?” Jongin asks, looking over Sehun’s shoulder to one of the screens, where the same video she and Joohyun watched starts to play.

“No. This is the bait I told you about”

She moves away to stand in front of the board, noticing the dog’s curiously eyeing her and leaning over as much as she can to extend her hand out to him. The honey-colored fur crossing over his eyes contrasts with his dark muzzle and nose in a vaguely familiar way, but he looked a lot less intimidating across the street, wearing a plastic raincoat, that day she went to pay Kibum a visit.

They were following her, even before Sana’s party.

She brushes the discovery aside when Jongin turns to her.

“The bait was… an apartment?”

“There was a package with a phone that I set to make them think Nayeon was using to contact me. It’d been moving around a few locations around the city these past few days until they caught up to it this morning. I guess they don’t like playing hide and seek.”

“The plates…” Junmyeon says.

“They’re cloned” She says, feeling a little sense of accomplishment when Kato takes a few steps towards her, sniffing in her direction and shaking his tail just a little. She remembers the effort she put in gaining Nosferatu’s trust, bribing him with tuna cans into her apartment.

“Still, there’s not a lot of places around where you can get jobs like this.” Jongdae says.

“Well, looking at this, I guess it’s safe to say they didn’t want to pay you a visit just for tea and cookies. Definitely personal.” Sehun concludes.

Junmyeon fixes his throat, taking a few steps from the screens, turning his body towards her.

“So, do we agree on you being the safest here?” he asks, sounding too much like a parent trying to negotiate with his difficult child for her to be comfortable with it. Her eyebrow twitches.

 _I don’t know, do we?_

She drags her eyes from the dog and gives him the response he wants while staring back at him, hoping he catches the message that they haven’t been as sneaky as they think.

But of course he doesn’t.

“Let’s try to keep things civil, then.” he looks around, wordlessly reminding them something she doesn’t know about “We know for sure not even them believe she’s dead, there must be a reason for that.”

Joohyun is partly right, she finally gets a closer look at how things work around here. Baekhyun manages to track down Hana’s job, some coffee shop where Jongin goes in for a vacant job and starts his training immediately. Baekhyun sums things up as sending a message to the manager from the owner of the cafe about his nephew, who is to be given the best treatment as a new member of staff, meaning the person in charge of teaching him how things worked at the place was senior barista, kind heart and pretty smile Song Hana.

They make it seem effortless, sitting around the monitors, looking over every corner of the coffee shop through the surveillance system, sharing snacks and mocking Jongin for his complete lack of knowledge on making espressos as Hana, who turns to be a lovely and very patient girl, guides him through it for the fifth time.

“Aaaah, w _hy did I come on a busy day?_ ” Jongin whines through a nervous chuckle. 

_“You haven’t seen busy around here”_ the girl laughs at whatever face Jongin makes, making sure he put the lid on correctly, he’s already managed to burn his hand a few moments ago. “ _You’ll get the hang of if, don’t worry, we all make mistakes during our first days_ ”

Through the camera, Jongin looks down at Song Hana with a honeyed smile and warm eyes. _“As long as I have you to guide me through it, i’m sure I will"_

Baekhyun lets out a whistle through the ghost of a smirk, shaking his head.

 _“_ Easy, tiger. You’ll scare her off.”

“Baby steps,” Sehun says, a mantra of his he’s been repeating while sucking on a strawberry lollipop. Next to him, on the floor, Kato laps up on another one of those that’s started to melt on a metallic tray.

“It wasn’t baby steps when you took Rin for a dance after talking to her for half a minute,” Jondgae says, finally walking in after a long call. He’s set on finding whoever provided the plates for the men who trashed her place, calling in favors with some of his contacts.

“I asked him for that dance” she reminds him. “And it was only because I wanted to have a word in private with him.”

“In the middle of a crowd?” Jongdae raises one eyebrow daringly, leaning closer with his elbow resting the back of her chair. “Bodies pressed together? Moving slowly from side to side?”

She laughs at his poor attempt at getting a reaction out of her, rolling her eyes.

“I remember, your friend at the bar was trying to listen to our conversation” Sehun nods, unfazed by Jongdae’s comments. He falls quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking something over “Things would’ve been a lot easier if I had just recognized you then.”

“I mean, unless you had x-ray vision you couldn’t have, you were wearing masks.” Baekhyun says “And it’s not like you knew her back then, what are you saying?”

"I did.” Sehun fires back “Minseok has those pictures of her in his office, she hasn’t changed _that_ much.”

Jongdae’s shares a stiff smile with Baekhyun over her head that she pretends not to notice. Instead, she shifts her legs under her, taking a sip of chocolate milk through the straw and focuses on Jongin taking some client’s order.

Four hours have passed, Jongin has stopped flirting with the girl, now opting for subtly letting her know he’s new in town and dying to get out of his apartment. Her ass is starting to demand she stands up and takes a walk, Sehun is somehow sitting with Baekhyun’s legs over his lap and Jongdae left the house an hour ago.

“I think I’m starting to understand this,” she says, drawing circles in the air with her finger. “You send Jongin to charm information out of people and Sehun does the staring, bodyguard kind of job”

“Why are you so sure this is a regular thing for us?” Sehun asks.

“Feels like it. I’m not sure, but I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Baekhyun’s smiles at her but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes like it did before, but it’s easy to fight off the sense of guilt when she can sense nervousness from him. Unlike Sehun, who shrugs it off, he knows she means it.

They’re on the edge of their seats, ready to call it a day as Jongin helps Hana close the store when she turns around, hanging her apron on the wall and freeing her hair from its tight bun and calls his name. Not Jongin, of course, to her he’s Jaemin, the owner’s nephew.

“Hey, if you’re down, some friends of mine have this party tonight…”

There’s nothing else for her to do for the rest of the evening but sit back and let them do their thing, wondering how it is that they expect her not to notice they’ve had plenty of practice.

Jongin comes home with a burned hand, a date as Jaemin the barista and some of Kato’s alleged favorite food. Baekhyun’s perched on his seat, him and Jongdae arranging anything that might be needed to have control over the party, from the layout of the penthouse to the easiest routes out of the area in case something goes wrong.

It looks like Hana keeps some interesting friends.

It’s 8 pm when everyone meets around the common area. She takes a seat on the floor, finding a good acquaintance in Kato, who refuses to leave her on her own as long as she’s giving him attention, but then Yixing leans down and asks her to sit next to him on one of the couches. Here she’s right across a very messy looking Chanyeol, who avoids her general direction like she’s the human bubonic plague.

“We have good news and bad news” Jongdae says. “We’ll have no visual access to the penthouse, so you’ll be our eyes.”

Jongin, who everyone turns to look at, merely shrugs. He’s changed to a light jacket, a tight shirt, even tighter jeans, looking more like the version of him thatTaemin introduced to her.

“Good news are, and some of you were worried about this-” he nods at her “The owner of the penthouse is one of Minhee’s closest friends. So we’re almost positive we’re heading in a good direction.”

“Almost” Junmyeon repeats. “You’re the one going in, are you ok with this? We don’t know if this will help us find Nayeon and you won’t have visual monitoring”

“I’ll have the boys for back up” he says “I’m just gathering information, I don’t see why we would be having second thoughts about this. ”

“You’re supposed to be picking up Hana in forty minutes, we better get going.” Jongdae says, looking at the time on his phone.

Kato stands next to her and watches Jongin, Chanyeol, Sehun and Jongdae walk out with one of his ears folded inside out. The first takes a car for himself, while the other three take another to trail after him.

“Mind having a talk?”

Junmyeon follows her gaze when she looks from him to find Yixing’s and Baekhyun’s backs as they follow Kyungsoo inside the station.

“Sure, why not”

He signals for her to lead the way upstairs and almost crashes into her when he suddenly turns and walks into her and smiles, eyes turning to slits, cheeks prominent. She leans away from him, startled by the unexpected change of attitude.

“Actually, there’s something I want to show you first. Come.”

The laundry room. Not only is it bigger than her bedroom, it’s also an unsettling place if he wants to show her something. He pays no mind to her stiffness, moving an empty storage closet out of the way and uncovering a hatch.

A hatch.

He turns the lights inside from the switch next to the wall, she takes a step back not only at the harsh contrast from the darkness before but because of the sound of what sounds like the hum of a machine being turned on.

“Is this how you get rid of me?” she asks, not expecting a laugh to come out of him, the light hitting his face from bellow making his cheeks look even puffier.

“Why would I do that?” he says, walking down the steps with suspicious enthusiasm.

“Are you– are you high?” 

Sending a look over her shoulder towards the washing machines and dryers, letting herself hear the hum of voices coming from outside for a few seconds, she makes her mind up and follows him.

Heat.

She quickly resents the contrast between the comfortable ventilation upstairs and the underground space, the loose pants Joohyun instructed her to wear until she healed are suddenly too thick on her, hair suffocating her shoulders and neck.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she finds herself surrounded by once she finally steps down from the noisy metal ladder. The sound of old school video game music so familiar he could tell her she just walked straight out of a time machine and she’d believe him.

She closes her mouth only to feel her jaw hanging again, recognition glowing in her eyes. Junmyeon regards her carefully, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Are these…”

“Not all of them. But yes, these are some of the ones that used to be in Arcadia.”

Her whole body shakes in laughter. He says it so simply, like there’s just a pair of them when in reality the room holds around 30 machine stations and that’s only an estimation her eyes make, jumping and letting out a little noise when she sees a familiar logo behind her.

“Oh my god, do you remember this?” she asks over her shoulder, feet springing towards.

“Time Crisis II” Junmyeon nods, not being able to contain his smile himself. “You and Soo were obsessed with it”

“This was the best of the best” she says in delight, grabbing the blue gun and pointing it at the screen, testing the trigger. “This is… how did you find these? They were all sold off” Junmyeon takes a look around himself, chest heavy with pride.

“The boys tracked the buyer, we bought what he hadn’t sold off, among other things.” he pauses, considering the next sentence to leave his mouth. “This place was locked up for a long time. No one touched them, no one used them, then, after that night at the hotel, I suggested we tried cleaning it up, see if they still worked. Most of them did, it’s just a few at the back there that need some maintenance.”

The place is free of dust, can maybe use a little touch up around the walls and maybe a new, safer stair but it doesn’t look like it hasn’t seen the light of day in years. She frowns, leaving the gun in its place, holding back the urge to step on the pedal to start the game. 

A side of her that can afford not worrying about the reality at hand pokes at her for not playing as soon as she’d gotten the chance to, now she’s lost the enthusiasm.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because this is all yours” he says, simple and sure, and maybe he seer the dread washing over her face because leans his head to the side a little

She repeats the same thing she said earlier to Kyungsoo, shaking her head solemnly. “They haven’t been mine for a long time.

"Your father left a will.” He ignores her too easily. “I’m sure you were aware of it when you were younger, it’s a… a lot of zeroes. It won’t be as easy as you’d expect, considering your change of-”

“Stop. Do you think that’s why I’m here?” he shakes his head with vigor, letting out a small chuckle.

“You know I don’t, can you please just listen to me?”

“I don’t understand, why are we even having this conversation?”

She’s getting at the edge of agitation, pressing her teeth until her mouth hurts. He at least waits for her to settle down, voice reaches out to her a little softer, still firm, he’s made his mind up and she won’t change it.

“Because I want to do this right from the beginning.”

“It has nothing to do with money, it’s a lot more complicated than-”

“I know that, and I wouldn’t have let you into our home without being aware of it. Time has passed and a lot has happened, but I think even you know where you belong.”

“Where I be- are you actually _listening_ to what you’re saying? Do you hear yourself right now?” she asks through low hisses, shaking her head “These past few days? Did you see how that turned out?”

He takes a short step towards her only to stop at the sound of steps coming down. Yixing’s body is still coming out of the shadows, but his voice they can recognize immediately.

“We start by coming clean and talking things through.” Not moving her head one inch as she returns her eyes to Junmyeon, she swallows nothing, mouth dry.

“Sorry, no, in my case it’s a very long fucking story, I’m sure longer than your tale of how the hell you all ended up doing whatever it is you guys do.”

“We spent years thinking you were dead, we didn’t get a body, just a few smoked out bones and some of your stuff that made it out.” Junmyeon says, eye contact steady “We have time. That’s the least of our worries.”

“There’s no reason why this should be dealt with in just one night” Yixing reasons, standing between the two of them. “There’s still pressing matters up there, I’m sure you won’t be walking out of it anytime soon.”

She shakes her head, she’ll see the end of it, and so will Haneul and Nayeon.

“Just a few days ago you were all about me backing off, this isn’t about Nayeon anymore, is it?”

Looking between the two of them, she gets her answer.

“So it is about Namjoon.” she huffs out a laug “Well, I hate to tell you this, but I’m nowhere near inside Bangtan. There’s a reason why I didn’t know you guys were even part of the syndicate. I’m sorry to disappoint you like this but I’m useless.”

Junmyeon shakes his head, face falling at her train of thought, but she doesn’t buy it or lets any emotion be stirred, not even when he curls one hand over her left shoulder and leans towards her, face so close she can count his lower eyelashes.

“No, this is because they would’ve wanted this, your father and mine.” he says, arm dropping when she moves her body from under his hold and shifts away from him. 

“And they both got killed, clearly they weren’t the best strategists.”

Yixing grimaces, looking at the ceiling, counting her steps towards the stairs, hoping he walked down here sooner. 

“What about the promise you made at the cemetery? Does it mean nothing now?”

It’s effective in the way it stops her right on her tracks, eyes wide open because he has to be either too desperate or just cruel to bring it up.

“That’s low, Myeon.” the accusation is so faint Yixing’s convinced he made it up in his head.

“I’m not guilt-tripping you. Rina made that promise and people call you Jiah these days. I just want to know if it changed things, be honest with me and I won’t bring it up anymore.”

_Is it some sense of responsibility, then?_

“Hwasong had underground facilities unknown to the public record where some of us were kept. The explosion took out most of the main buildings but the underground areas… we were lucky, somehow” two pairs of eyes burn a hole to the back of her head. “That’s how I made it out of there. The money, bury it, let it rot, give it to someone who needs it. I don’t care.”

She walks back to the surface with marks in the shape of her nails tattooed to the palms of her sweaty hands.

Downstairs, the sound of her steps fades in the distance, Junmyeon takes a step back, looking at the misplaced blue gun and shakes his head.

“What was that?” Yixing walks up to him, patting his back in some sort of encouragement, but his small smile is distracted. Something else is bothering him.

“I think… baby steps.”


	6. Chapter 6

**_091009 - 3:54 pm / 9 years ago_ **

_“Get in the car and wait there, we’re going home.”_

_“No.”_

_Kang Hangjae sighs and looks down at his daughter, trying to remember exactly what he did to raise her like this. She stares back at him with her chin up in the air, a fire in her eyes that she didn’t get from him._

_Kang Rina is too deep in her own resentment to see the purple and green pools under her father’s eyes, the way his face is sinking over his bones, only the way his nostrils flare at her as he opens the drawer behind his desk forcefully._

_“Get in the_ damn _car right now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”_

_“I don’t want to go with you in your dumb car!” she leans forward “If i’m such an embarrassment of a daughter then i’ll walk home, god forbid you’re seen with me.”_

_She slams the office door on her way out, finds a hiding spot at the back of the front desk, next to the cardboard box filled with missing objects, knees pressed tight against her chest. She’s never felt so grateful of Yifan having the reaction range of a living corpse and the way he pays mind to her. He licks his thumb, calmly flips a page on one the comic books Baekhyun left behind._

_Soon enough her father walks out of the office, telling Yifan someone will be coming tomorrow to check one of the bowling machines. Hidden under the desk, Rina stares at his old brown leather shoes with hateful eyes, watching the way he turns and stops for a moment._

_A few seconds pass, and he leaves through the front door._

_“Give him some credit.” Yifan says after a beat of silence, flipping another page and resting his right ankle over his left knee, pushing himself back so that he can see her better if he wants to, yet his eyes stay trained on the comic book._

_“What do you know?” she spits out bitterly._

_“I know that raising you on his own can’t easy”_

_She’s aware of it all being a stupid turn of events._

_It started earlier that morning, Chanyeol stopped her on her way to class with his eyes blown out, looking over his shoulder as gave her a bunch of old cassettes for her to hold on to. She didn’t think much of it until she accidentally spilled her backpack’s contents looking for a sharpener and her geography teacher asked where she’d gotten the cassettes from, only to end up being taken to the principal’s office, where she eventually figured out what Chanyeol was so nervous about. Someone broke inside the teacher’s car the day before and stole his stereo._

_Her father was called from one of his classes when she refused to answer any questions and then spent the whole ride to the arcade yelling at her about being irresponsible and dumb and embarrassing him in front of his colleagues._

_“It’s just stupid!” she grits out, swallowing a huge lump and pressing her eyes shut when she feels tears pouring out. “Most of the time he acts like I’m not even there and now he wants to- to pretend to be an exemplary father. He can’t do that, screw him.”_

_Yifan sighs and finally drags his eyes from the stupid manga._

_“You don’t mean that, you’re just angry,” he says, looking down at her pathetic position and clicks his tongue. “You shouldn’t be getting in trouble or fighting your father just because Chanyeol fucked up trying to impress Junkyung and his friends.”_

_She looks up at him in surprise, wiping her nose, wondering just how Yifan already knows the truth of it._

_“You would’ve done the exact same thing” he shrugs with one shoulder and nods._

_“Probably. But it’s different for you.”_

_“How?”_

_“You’re a girl, you don’t owe boys any loyalty. Next time let him suffer the consequences of his actions.”_

_She frowns. Yifan knows a lot of things for a boy his age, from fixing cars, picking on locks to handling annoying customers when they get too into the games, he’s full of useful knowledge, but this time she can tell there’s a fault in his logic, and just like that he’s no longer the wise person filled with all the answers that she used to think he was._

_Maybe growing older is about realizing not everyone is what you think they are._

_“Mr. Kang is a good father, If I had slammed a door and raised my voice at mine like that I would’ve gotten the slap of my life and thrown out until next morning.”_

_She winces, feeling bad for him, but looks away because he’ll probably think she pities him and it’ll annoy him. His phone rings, and his face drops when he looks at the small screen, a strange messed up face she’s seen on him before. He doesn’t pick up but she can’t tell he’s bothered by it from how his knee bounces one hundred times per minute._

_Out of nowhere, he turns to look at her, and she knows what he’s about to say._

_“Do you think you can close for me?” he asks. “I have some errands to run.”_

_She blinks, she’s done it when Baekhyun asks before, but this time she really doesn’t want to. It’s silly because she isn’t planning on going home anytime soon anyway._

_He looks like he’s a second from taking back his request._

_“Sure.” she nods._

_Conflicted eyes scan the arcade, he scratches his neck before nodding at no one in particular, slapping his thigh and standing up, leaving not without telling her to stop crying or she’ll scare costumers -she makes sure to roll her eyes at him as hard as she can._

_Unlike her father, he leaves through the backdoor, and as the sound of the rusty heavy thing echoes an ugly feeling creeps up to her._

_After a while of biting her nails and moving from side to side in the old swiveling chair her eyes catch something on the floor._

_A military green backpack. Yifan’s military green backpack. She can’t remember a day he’s left it behind and so she stands up, picks it up and unties the string to look inside. It’s not like he’s around to say anything about it._

_A wallet, a box of matchsticks and a white thick envelope all wrapped up in transparent tape._

_It’s not late yet, but the sun no longer reaches the alley at the back of the arcade. Just like she thought, he’s not that far away just yet, talking with some guy shorter than him wearing a Hawaiian shirt. She swallows loudly, right there, next to him, is the source of the dread she felt earlier._

_It’s that baby blue car parked a block away._

_She pulls the backpack over her shoulder, taking a few steps in his direction when someone grabs her forearm._

_“Where are you going?”_

_She makes a small noise of surprise, turning to face Minseok, who looks over her shoulder and frowns at her._

_“I’m giving Yifan his stuff, he left it.” she points at the backpack with her chin._

_She’s turning to look over her shoulder when he takes the weight from her._

_“He can pick it up tomorrow.” he grabs her shoulders, making her turn around. “Come on, let’s go inside.”_

_“What’s going on with you?” She’s never seen him this agitated, it reminds her of Chanyeol earlier this morning, but it’s more alarming coming from him, who’s usually calm in the middle of the chaos the boys usually live around. “Minseok?”_

_He leads them back inside, closing the door behind her._

_“Listen, I need you to promise me something,” he says, turning to face her with a serious expression, going as far as bending his knees so that they’re eye to eye, and she’s stunned, heart beating faster at his actions. “Don’t approach or try to talk to Yifan when he’s with those guys. Ok? Or anyone that you don’t recognize.”_

_“Why?” she furrows her brow, he shakes his head._

_“You have to promise me, Rina.” she inhales and nods just because she doesn’t like seeing him so distressed, but she’s reluctant to break this moment._

_“Ok, I won’t, but who are they?” he scans her face closely, trying to make sure she means it._

_“It doesn’t matter.” when he takes a step back, the whiteness from the light bulb to hits her face on the empty hallway, and he frowns. “Why is your face all red? And your eyes– were you crying?”_

_“Tell me the truth.” she imitates the way he pulled on her, hand grabbing on his wrist and pulling down on it, barely moving him “I know he’s getting into bad stuff. Who are those people? Why do they call him around?”_

_“Bad stuff?” he repeats._

_“I’m not dumb, ok? I can tell.” the truth is she heard something about it from Baekhyun and Jongdae, but he doesn’t need to know that. Minseok purses his lips, pressing the back of his hand over her forehead but she backs away. “Min!”_

_“Of course you’re not dumb” he smiles a little, finger flicking her chin “But you’re nosy, and these aren’t people you want to be nosy with so let’s leave it at that. Come on, I’ll help you close, then I’ll walk you home and you can tell me what happened that made you cry.”_

> _**081718 - 01:34 am** _
> 
> _**Present day**   
>  _

Peace and silence is a rarity in this house, she can tell even the walls resent it as she leaves Baekhyun’s room, walks past the several doors and their call to be explored just to see where they can lead her, a bubbly anticipation she’s been getting after Junmyeon surprised her with the hatch.

To sum it up, things have been awkward. There’s a silent rule to not let Chanyeol coexist in the same room at the same time, specially not alone, set at some point, because Sehun’s remarks that are either just him being an asshole or an attempt at relieving the tension can only do so much to help out and she decided it’s best to keep to herself and avoid leaving the safety of Baekhyun’s bedroom at all.

Jongdae’s been coming up to check up on her, blocking her attempts at paying for take out under the excuse that she’s a guest, something she’s come to question, this morning he invited her for a walk with Kato and Junmyeon shut down the idea just as she was starting to tie her shoes.

Earlier, it was also Jongdae who knocked on the door to let her know they were going out for drinks and that she was free to join, he was amused by how surprised she looked, making it clear that unlike Junmyeon, he can see that being all locked up has started to drive crazy.

And he’s not wrong, but it mean joining is a good idea. With them gone, Kato being at Junmyeon’s place and Yixing out of town again doing god knows what, tonight she’s officially home alone. It’s funny, she still feels the need to be a lighter weight so that her bare feet make no sound padding into the kitchen. 

Dropping the tablet that has been her source of entertainment on the counter, she starts her mission of exploing their fridge, it’s stacked up with an overwhelming amount of food and ingredients but fall into a plastic container with a remaining piece of the ugly pink cake from days ago, it puts a smile on her face.

“Hungry?”

She jumps both at the sound of his voice and the slam of the fridge door she pushed with more strength than necessary, feeling like she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Minseok has a mildly surprised expression on him, eyebrows up as he puts his phone down, and it’s thrice as hard forcing both herself and her rapid heartbeat to relax when she’s cornered against the kitchen counter and his stare is unavoidable.

“You’ll find leftovers in there, somewhere” he nods at the fridge "There’s always leftovers in this house.“ 

"I’m not hungry” he leans his head to the side, silently asking why she had her head inside the fridge in the first place “But thank you”

She has no choice but to follow him with her eyes as he walks his way around the kitchen island. At least he’s not in his usual attire of silk shirts tucked inside tight jeans or those suits she’s seen him wear, instead sporting a loose sleeveless shirt and grey sweats, making her feel a little less small in her sleeping shorts and old bleach stained shirt that’s about three times her size.

Reminding herself she came down for a very specific reason she reaches the silver plate next to the stove where she last put her pills, pain killers are a pass now that the wound is perfectly bearable, so she goes for the pink bottle of antibiotics instead, watching from the corner of her eye as he leans down over the open fridge, moving stuff around before he finds whatever he’s looking for.

Washing the white pill down her throat with a long sip from a bottle of water she brought down with her, she leans over the island top. From here she can openly watch him grab a small pot, turn the stove on and pour the contents from some cardboard box he throws on the trash. He’s focused enough so that she can fix her eyes on the back of his head, where strands of hair are pushed upwards by the headband he’s wearing, without being worried he’ll notice.

Out of all of them, Minseok is the one she hasn’t interacted with at all, not a word exchanged, just the weirdest ghost of eyes on her when she turns to look at him, and she’s sure that even if she’d spent every day like this, being able to watch him openly, he’d still be the hardest to read. 

When he reaches up to pull a glass made of thick crystal and turns around, she’s already playing off her shameless staring by leaning her elbows on the counter, scrolling through the tablet with fake interest. Her eyes dart up at the sound of the same glass being put down in front of her, looking down from him to the full glass of milk he’s so clearly offering her.

“Drink it, I know those pills are unbearable on an empty stomach.”

When her hand curls around the glass and brings it up she finds it’s warm, when she takes the first sip it’s perfectly drinkable, the soothing kind of warm that’s not scalding but doesn’t make you think it’s running cold, when she swallows it’s thicker than her usual milk of choice.

They’ve done this before, she knows that much, maybe he remembers it too and he’s doing it on purpose. But why?

“Too hot?”

She shakes her head, glass already up and head tilted back until she’s done with it, setting it down again and pressing one knuckle to the left corner of her mouth, allowing herself to breathe and frowning when she sees that he’s chuckling to himself, pressing his lips together.

“What?”

“Nothing.” he says but his eyes say otherwise, taking the glass and moving to wash it at the sink, sighing a little when he sees that the coffee machine hasn’t been cleaned. Now it’s her turn to chuckle, his hair hits back against his eyebrows when he turns to look at her.

“What?”

He’s still a clean freak, which makes her think how often he’s been in the same position, cursing the boys under his breath but still cleaning after them anyway.

“Nothing.” she shrugs.

“So, what’s keeping you up so late?” he asks, sending the digital clock on on the wall a glance. “I’m guessing it’s not keeping up with your pills.”

She shakes her head, telling herself it can’t be this weird having a casual conversation with him of all people when Yixing had made it seem so easy that night while having dinner.

His eyebrows dart up, resting his weight on his hands splayed on the island, sharp eyes not missing how she leans back in her seat, keeping a safe distance between them.

“Is Baekhyun’s bed uncomfortable?”

She shakes her head no. Being the overgrown baby that he is, Baekhyun has his bed filled with the most comfortable, fuzzy covers, the kind that make you feel like you’re back inside your mother’s womb.

“I just miss home” deep at the back of her throat she knows it’s a half lie. With Joohyun visiting her parents, Yerim overseas, she knows any other year she’d be on her own, possibly doing groceries and binge watching shows here and there, bored out of her mind. Perhaps that summer boredom makes the awkwardness of this place bearable.

“Where’s that?”

For some unknown reason, she feels like he means to ask something else.

“On the other side of town” On a street somewhere, on the third floor of another building, thrown upside down, with the ghost of nosferatu lurking around her bedroom.

“You know Junmyeon can’t keep you hostage here for long, right?”

She blinks, this is the last chuckle of his she lets pass.

“What’s so funny?”

She’s absolutely not expecting him to answer, his head leaning to the side as he regards her with a half amused stare.

“Because this… version of you right now and the girl gun whipping Joowon, they don’t match. Are you scared of something?” She scoffs, looking away when he chuckles “That’s more like it, you’ve been acting like a little mouse since I got in here.”

“Forgive me for being a little thrown off when you suddenly decide to come down to chit cht.” she doesn’t mean to sound like she’s accusing him of something, or that she’s hurt by him ignoring her, but somehow it does come off like that and the smirk it pulls out of him means that he picked up on it.

“Did I hurt your feelings?” he asks, and she’s taken aback by the flicker of mischief in his eyes. He’s _mocking_ her.

This is where her indifference comes in.

“Hardly.” she blinks lazily, he huffs out some air.

“I’m sorry I didn’t line up to play dad with you like Yixing and Junmyeon seem so intent on doing.”

“And yet you’re here”

There’s no shame in his shrug “You’ve been quite a novelty around here, can’t blame me for being curious.“ his eyes dart down, he nods at the table, getting serious before she has too much time to wonder if he heard her come down and followed just to corner her here. "What’s that? If you don’t mind me asking?”

She’s suddenly reminded of the website for some Eldercare home she was looking through earlier.

“Jongin being after Hana hasn’t helped much, so I started looking through some other stuff we’ve found.” He sends her a questioning look.

“And is…” he leans closer to look at the tablet, narrowing his eyes and reading upside down. “Dawn Adult Care conected to Im Nayeon?”

“It doesn’t. It does to Jeongyeon, though, her mother’s been staying here for the past two years. She was diagnosed with dementia when she was younger.”

Minseok nods, turning the tablet around to read through it closely, humming “This looks nice.”

“And expensive. Makes you wonder how a uni student manages to pay for this on her own.” she mumbles.

“Jeongyeon… she’s one of the missing girls, right? You’re saying she was handling it on her own this whole time?” he frowns, licks his lips and shifts his head a little. “If she’s one of the missing girls, who’s taking care of her mother now?”

She purses her lip, and his eyes go back to their normal shape when he understands her motives, putting the tablet down. Whatever catches his attention as she scrolls through the page for no other reason than to distract herself from his shameless staring makes him sound a little less like moments earlier, when he was entertaining himself pulling reactions out of her.

“Baekhyun can look into it in the morning, you missing sleep over it won’t help find out faster.” She looks up at him, a smirk pulling at her lips.

“You sounded like Junmyeon just now, _almost_ " 

He lets out a small humorless chuckle, lifting one eyebrow

"You’re not getting Junmyeon treatment from me, I promise you that” he assures, and whatever he means by it, the way he says it makes her bones go cold and the hairs of her arms dart up. 

A feeling tells her she should be heading upstairs and keeping a distance from whatever this is because while they didn’t leave things at the best of terms years back, before she supposedly died, she doesn’t remember his presence feeling this dry and sour, almost dark.

“No, I’d never expect Junmyeon to hand me a glass of warm milk.” she mutters, taking another sip of water to watch out the ruined taste. Despite the alarms going through her head, she wasn’t raised to be easily scared.

“They used to put you to sleep like a baby” She coughs a little, putting the bottle down and meeting his eyes, shock flashing through her eyes.

So he did it on purpose, despite his comment about the pills and her empty stomach. He moves to the fridge and pulls out a lemon green bowl filled with strawberries, plucking the green leaf and gives her a glance as he lets it rest between them in silent offering.

“Is it that easy to shut you up? Because it wasn’t my intention at all. I’d rather you talked back, I’m not Chanyeol.”

“No, you’re definitely not Chanyeol” she swallows, looking away from the juicy fruit that he presses against his pursed lips as he sucks on it and bites. He keeps eye contact like he wants to do the same thing to her, not in the erotic way it might be interpreted it as, but a far crueler one.

“I don’t resent you for making your own choices.” he says, catching her attention “But out of all the places I’d expect to see you again, it would’ve never occurred to me that it’d be at the hotel.”

“Xiumin.” she blurts out, a desperate attempt at giving the conversation a turn. His shoulders visibly tense, eyes hardening as he bites on another red fruit and takes his time chewing, waiting for her to continue. “If I hadn’t heard Joowon call you that, I could’ve blown out both your covers without meaning to. I was _this_ close when someone mentioned Suho, then I added two and two.”

“What? Sad you’re not the only one with a fake identity?” he smiles acidly. 

This is her cue. She turns on the balls of her feet and walks away, coming to a sudden halt when she hears an amused groan. 

“Come on, I’m just joking.”

She turns around so fast strands of hair whip against her face, he mirrors what she imagines is her own pout mockingly but she doesn’t like this playfulness of his that feels like it’ll cut her if she gets too close.

“I find it hard to take it as a joke after finding that you’re still doing this shit.” her voice comes out tight. A lot is left unsaid: _after everything that happened, after the shit we all went through._

“Oh? Doing what?” he stands up, raises one perfectly arched eyebrow.

He walks from under the kitchen light, towards her, with calculated steps.

“Doing what, Rina?” he asks again, chin moving as he waits for her to look away, to step back, cower under his presence.

“You said you’d drop as soon as your mother got through her treatment.” she says, lowering her voice just a little.

His smile drops, and she’s afraid to hear what comes out of his mouth next.

“She died three years ago,” he tells her. “Not that it’s any of your business”

Her eyes fall to the floor, but when she looks back up at him another question is glistening in her eyes.

“Then what are you doing? Why are you signing deals with those assholes at the syndicate, knowing the kind of things they do? You know it’s not just drugs and guns”

He blinks, leaning back and bringing an eyebrow up.

"A little hypocritical, wouldn’t you say? You were there that same night, too.”

“Do you think that if I had anything to do with the syndicate, Joowon, being the dick sucker he is, would’ve treated me like that?”

“No.” his lower lip darts out as he easily agrees with her “No, definitely not, but you seemed too eager to get yourself involved like that for the sake of the party to be just a guest. Guests don’t get to bring guns and walk without a… physical warning.”

It sounds like an accusation. She’s tired of defending herself, trying to give explanations she’s too unwilling to go through.

“If you despise the syndicate that much, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did, then that makes me wonder what kind of thing you got yourself into to be indebted to Namjoon to the point you let him treat you like that.”

“I expected you to be better at changing subjects.” she snaps at him, letting him know that she hasn’t forgotten her first question.

He rolls his eyes “If I wanted to distract you i’d find another way to do it. You can’t just accuse us if you don’t know our reasons, just like I can’t accuse you without knowing yours." 

It’s her turn to let out a snort "You have a shitty way of not accusing people, then.”

“Like I said, I’m not Chanyeol, maybe you messed up, got on the wrong side of some bad bad men, something we both know you’re excellent at” he chuckles, inhaling some air and shrugging “Or maybe you didn’t, maybe you _are_ fucking Namjoon. It’s all the same to me, Point is, i’m sorry to tell you this, but there are questions that you don’t get an answer to, so stop fucking with Baekhyun’s mind hoping he’ll slip and talk.”

She opens her mouth and closes it, looks away and grazes the textured wall of the edge of the portal at the sound of the front gate opening, meaning the rest are back and the conversation will come to an end.

“I’m not–”

“Yes you are” he interrupts, voice much too harsh for his otherwise calm stance and she flinches for the first time, feels the disdain oozing out of him “He’s too sensitive when it comes to you. I’ll be honest with you, and I’ll only say this once, _Jiah_ , so listen closely…”

Her name… she has never heard anyone say it like that, the sound of it is enough to leave her frozen. He’s suddenly another step closer.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, humoring Junmyeon and staying here, we both know you’re not some defenseless girl in need of protection.” his eyes run across her face patiently, grabbing a strand of hair and wrapping it around his finger. “But the moment I figure what you’re getting out of this and find out that you’re putting any of them in danger, I’ll be the first to make sure you regret it.”

In her mind, she grabs his hand and bends it back and makes sure he never dares lay it on her ever again, even in such a harmless way. She tells him there’s nothing he can promise to do to her that hasn’t been done before, so she’s not scared of him, but the truth of the matter is, she is. 

Only for a fleeting second, she can feel her blood turn cold and all warmth abandon her body. For what she’s done, for what he has become, and how they ended up like this.

Reality grabs her with the sound of the kitchen door sliding open and the noises of struggling, huffing. A limp, big body hangs limp from Jongdae’s and Jongin’s arms, behind them Baekhyun stretches his back and Sehun makes sure to close the door behind him.

“Aaah we should’ve never let him spend that much time at the gym, look at him, he’s turning into a fucking beast” Baekhyun half heartedly kicks an unconscious Chanyeol’s heel. 

“Who’s going to the gym?” Chanyeol babbles, ok… half conscious.

He tries to turn his neck around to both sides to see Baekhyun, knees buckling under him. Jongin and Jongdae both pull strained faces at the weight added on them.

“Just stop engaging in conversation with him!

” Jongdae orders through a clenched jaw “He’ll never fall asleep if you keep egging him on”

“’m not–” he hiccups. Baekhyun makes a run for the trashcan under the sink as Jongdae and Jongin tense, but then he only burps and giggles at the sound. “’m not sleepy.”

“You better be” Jongin groans “I’ll smother you with a pillow if I have to.”

“Hey.” Jongdae nods, finally noticing them standing at the edge of the kitchen. Fixing his grip on Chanyeol. He looks between the two of them, something like concern or worry in the way his eyebrows shift.

“You!”

Rina jumps a little, gaping at the way Chanyeol, who apparently just became aware of her presence _tries_ to point his finger at her as much as Jongin’s grip on his arm and senses allow him to. He squirms, freeing himself from them, lousily slapping their hands away as he drags his feet towards her.

Stuck there, she orders herself to give no reaction, despite Jongdae and Baekhyun rushing behind him to stop the taller man from getting closer to her. Jongin looks concerned for a bit but soon mirrors Sehun’s cool exterior, crossing his arms and watching with interest in his eyes. Next to her, she feels Minseok move to the side and out of the way as Chanyeol charges towards her and brings an arm up.

She fixes her stance, she’s never been above hitting drunk men and she’s not planning on starting today…

And the wraps it around her, enveloping her in a half hug half grip of her upper torso. Baekhyun stops Jongdae, slapping his hand against his chest and hushes him to watch.

Chanyeol breathes in loudly, pressing the side of his face against her temple and breaks down in a loud sob, wetting her hair with a mixture of tears and what could be a runny nose, but she’s too shocked out of her senses to care about it.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he cries "We shouldn’t– I should’ve gone back, shouldn’t ‘ave l– left you behind–“

Now, maybe if she didn’t have his whole weight on her, and her arms weren’t stuck between their bodies, she could’ve done something like push him away, try to rub his back in comfort or just wipe herself clean of his emotional fluids.

"Yeol…" 

"I was so angry– I didn’t– think–”

“Dude, you’re heavy.” she tries, words swallowed by a mixture of whimpers and sniffles. She’s out of words, seeing Baekhyun press the side of his finger to his nose and turn around, eyes glistening, avoiding Minseok’s heavy gaze on him. Jongdae sighs, patting Chanyeol’s back.

“Alright, buddy, it’s time for you to go to bed, you’re heavy and you’re hurting Rina.”

Meanwhile, Sehun looks away uncomfortably, clearly not having expected to see Chanyeol breaking down in tears. From the way they reacted they seemed to be expecting him to try to jump her, even Minseok’s eyes widened when he started crying.

She knows they all took sides after the fight that morning, felt their protective position over Chanyeol that translated into a growing dislike towards her, Sehun has clearly never been her biggest fan, but Jongin’s kindness, that she started to be suspicious of after seeing him play Hana through the screen, turned into a cold shoulder, so if they thought Chanyeol was going to try and get physical with her, none of them except Baekhyun and Jongdae were trying to stop him.

She helps Jongdae persuade Chanyeol to go upstairs, since he doesn’t plan to release her anytime soon until they get to his bed and she has to push him down, but he still holds on to her wrist, eyes wincing at the lights. Jongdae sucks air between his lips, growing annoyed at him.

“It’s ok. I’ll stay with him, make sure he sleeps on his side and doesn’t choke on his own vomit” she sits down on the bed. Jongdae takes his sweet time debating whether or not to agree, it’s clear he’s not not convinced about leaving the two alone.

She rolls her eyes “I won’t kill him, Dae.” Eventually, he nods.

“I’ll go get a glass of water and some pills for him in the morning.”

She looks down at Chanyeol and uses a hand to wipe the tiredness she’s suddenly feeling from her face. He stares up at her with one eye barely open, cheeks stained and a trail of glistening snot going from his nose to his lips.

“Do you really hate us?” he asks groggily, cheek pressed to his pillow “Do you hate me?”

She shakes her head.

“I told you I don’t resent you, didn’t I?” she mutters.

“Are you lying?” 

She chukles “No, I mean it.”

“And did you mean the other thing? Not having to see us again if you’d had it your way?”

From the way his words flow out better, it’s clear he’s sobering up but sleepiness is growing on him. She doesn’t know if it’s worse having this conversation with a drunk Chanyeol or a Chanyeol that will remember it the next day when waking up with a killer hangover.

“I’m happy you’re not dead.” he says, releasing her wrist and using his hand to finally wipe his nose.

“I’m happy I’m not too” she chuckles, looking away to appease the stinging behind her eyes, shaking her head and looking at a bunch of instruments decorating the wall. Yeah, this is Chanyeol’s room.

“But I’m still angry with you.” he mutters. “I don’t know when I’ll stop. But I am.”

“That’s ok,” she stands up, picking up on Jongdae’s and Jongin’s voices growing closer outside “You can be angry at me all you want. Don’t sleep on your back.”

Jongdae gives her a funny look when she quietly closes the door behind her.

“What’d he say to you?” he asks, she looks at the door and shrugs.

“Just– nonsense.” he looks at her for another and chuckles softly, she doesn’t care if he buys it.

“Just the usual, then.”

_**081718 - 09:27 am** _

“So, how does it feel?”

She tucks the hem of the shirt back inside her jeans. Had she known that getting rid of the two small staples would be as easy as bending them off with some glorified clippers she would’ve done it before her shower. 

Junmyeon came home early, way too early, to pester her into waking up so he could take her to the hospital so his friend could get someone to check on her and remove the staples.

“Doesn’t hurt anymore, the scar feels funn but that’s it”

Junmyeon makes a noise of acknowledgment, rushing to open the passenger door for her, but before she can nag at him for doing too much she walks past him, not sparing a glance at his curious eyes.

There’s a long, thin red leaf that she plucks from the windshield wiper. Nothing stands out about it but she stares at it like it’s the most intriguing thing she’s seen in a long while. He mumbles that he’s seen far prettier and she looks at him, throws the flower to the ground and _just_ smiles.

It doesn’t reach her eyes.

“That’s true, but a cup of tea of these ugly little things can get rid of the worst cough,” she jumps inside the car and shakes her head “I can open doors myself, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah”

She leans her head back against the front seat, staring out of the window at the parking lot, face morphing into a teasing smile. Junmyeon makes a double-take at her as he turns the car on and starts to go on reverse.

“What’s that smile for?”

“I like Doctor Jangmi” she watches his reaction carefully, but all he does is make a pouty face and nod in agreement. “She seems like a good person, she’s hot too.”

“I guess. Why were you checking her out? Didn’t know you were into girls, I don’t even know if she likes girls like that, but maybe I could set you two up.” he says with fake nonchalance. She laughs in victory.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t asked her out yet” he gives no answer, she smacks her lips “Are you that _clueless_ or are you coward?”

“It’s not like that between us” 

He can’t be, there’s no way. It took her five minutes to pick up on the tension between the two of them. The doctor was a literal angel to her, but she didn’t miss the way she looked at him, or the way she laughed at his stupid weather joke, or the way she stared and looked away immediately when Junmyeon placed a hand against the small of her back and took hers’ in the other to help her sit up.

“We’ve been friends since college, if there was any kind of…” he stops, struggling to finish the sentence.

“Take your time, use your words.” she teases, earning a glare from him.

“…thing between the two of us, it would’ve happened already.”

She opens her mouth ready to retaliate, and then the sound of an incoming phonecall through the speakers interrupts her.

 _“Where are you right now?”_ Baekhyun asks.

“On our way back, why? Something happen?”

 _“I tracked the last payments from Jeongyeon’s mother’s clinic”_ Rina sits up a little straighter, meeting Junmyeon’s eyes _“It goes back to a seven eleven in Itaewon, I checked the security cameras from the past week, there’s a pretty cashier that seems pretty familiar to me, but you can judge for yourselves when you get here.”_


	7. Chapter 7

**081718 - 12:42 am**

“Two orders for table one”

Jongdae has a pleasant smile as he puts a heavy bag on the table between them, pulling out food, mostly trash, with an excited gleam in his eye, trying not to spill the contents from his noodles at the same time. He’s as bright as the weather outside today, and it’s hard not to want to match his mood.

“Yay” she says, somewhat awkwardly, making him laugh softly “My favorite.”

“Specialty of the house” he says, lowering his voice as he gets comfortable on the seat across “Go on, knock yourself out, you’ll catch unwanted attention if you don’t relax”

“We’re in a seven eleven, no one is even looking at us.” she snorts, pulling the lid from a bottle of banana milk, thankful that he thought of buying some after she said she was ok with anything he picked.

“They will if you keep looking like you’re about to rob the place.” he counters, pointing at his precious noodles “Sure you don’t want some?”

She shakes her head, looking out of the window and he digs in. She’s still surprised she managed to convince Junmyeon it was the best idea to send her looking for Jeongyeon, arguing that she was more likely to inspire trust instead of permanent bitch face Sehun or the male version of Jessica Rabbit, meaning Jongin. 

It ended up being her, Jongdae and Chanyeol who’s parked at the back, ready to drive them back home as soon as they’re done here, probably hitting his head against the steering wheel, regretting the amount of alcohol he drank last night.

The cashier, a young girl with a heavy fringe that must’ve scratched her pay in lottery tickets just during the time they’ve been here waiting, looks at the clock next to the door and sighs, annoyed because there’s only five minutes left to her shift and there’s no sign from the other cashier who, if everything goes accordingly, _has_ to be Jeongyeon in disguise.

Outside, the street is buzzing with movement, probably even busier when the sun goes down and the string lights are turned on. She can understand why she’d choose a place like this to hide, but there’s something that’s been bothering from the moment they walked inside. 

Why choose a job like this? If you’re trying to survive on the low having to face all sorts people for hours is a huge inconvenience. It’s a naive take on hiding on plain sight.

Jongdae’s knuckles hit the table. He tips his head at her. She doesn’t turn immediately, resting her head on her fist as she pretends to tiredly look out of the window. A girl with short hair wearing a black cap crosses the street, eyes down, hands stuck inside a denim vest, and judging from her body measures, height and haircut, there’s no doubt she’s the same girl that caught Baekhyun’s attention from the CCTV footage. 

Jongdae and her meet eyes as he slurps up the leftovers from his cup, sitting back and widening his legs comfortably as he nods.

_We got this._

She walks in, greets the other girl who says hi with less enthusiasm, takes off her cap and walking around the cashier desk, that’s when the two of them deflate.

The girl is definitely not Jeongyeon. Cheeks too full to be anything older than 18, eyes and teeth too small. the shape of her mouth is all wrong.

“Wrong one” she hears Jondgae say, knowing he’s talking to the mic.

 _“What?”_ Baekhyun asks. _“Are you sure? She could be wearing heavy make up, right? Isn’t that the smart thing to do?”_

“She’s a kid” she says a little too loudly, standing up and storming out of the place, ignoring the weird looks the girls chatting behind the counter give her.

Staring out at the street, she scratches the skin under her choker in exasperation. There’s a group kids at the end of the block playing with water guns, some American couple in matching bikes pass her, scaring some pigeons away. Jeongyeon could be anywhere right now, she just hopes she’s hiding well enough from the wrong guys too.

 _“We should head home.”_ Jondgae says from inside, cleaning up the table.

“No. She has to be somewhere around, the payments have been made through this store for the past six months. She either lives or works near.”

“ _I agree, but we can’t just go knocking from door to door_.” Jongdae says.

 _“Think of it like this, if you were a girl pretending to be dead, were would you hide?”_ Sehun asks, making a small noise out of nowhere. _“Actually, we have Rina, guys, let’s just follow her instinct from here.”_

She snorts, rolls her eyes and crosses the street, towards the french restaurant she’s had her eyes on. She would feel safer around foreigners, maybe…

 _“Sehun, shut up. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”_ Jongdae asks.

_“I wanted to see Sherlock Holmes try to figure this one out, since she was so confident earlier.”_

_“I’ll check around the area too.”_ Chanyeol croaks out.

_“Huh, you’re alive?”_

_“Barely”_

At this point she’s only trying for the sake of not giving up just yet, earning a funny glance from one of the waiters that walks up to her and asks if she wants a table for one or if anyone’s waiting for her. She shakes her head no and keeps looking for familiar faces from the rest of the female staff members.

Tucked inside the back pocket of the jeans, her brand new phone buzzes. She got it just a few days ago to call the girls and an angry Taemin who went off on her about Kibum being a pain in the ass for not being able to contact her, but never had the time or worried to save any contacts. 

This sequence of numbers, though, she has to stare at the screen and stop, throwing her surroundings a look, just in case.

“What’s this?” she walks out of the ladies bathroom and tries to take a peek at the kitchen on her way past to no avail.

 _“I just sent you the location, you have about fifteen minutes, maybe less, men are heading there as we speak.”_ she’d recognize Kim Taehyung’s low voice anywhere, but what’s not clear is what he’s talking about, or why he’s calling right now.

“I’m not in the mood for games right now, Tae.”

 _“Who said we’re playing?”_ he smirks through the phone _“Namjoon says you’re welcome, by the way, bye-bye!”_

He hangs up. She stares at the screen, touching the last message sent and stares at the coordinates. Taehyung has always been a weird motherfucker, but she has a hunch that he just gave her what she needs the most right now.

 _“What the hell was that?”_ Baekhyun blurts out.

“Honeamu 503-2, that’s where she is” she says, running out of the place and making a turn to the left, muttering the direction over and over again “Honeamu 503-2”

_“Please tell me you’re not actually heading there.”_

It’s hard to tell at first because the street she turns left on is anything but straight, but as she takes one look at her screen, it says she’s headed in the right direction.

 _“I don’t want to jump into conclusions but I think she’s heading there.”_ Sehun says.

 _“Rina”_ Yixing warns _“Stop and think this through first, wait for one of the guys before–”_

She comes to face a three-floor pink building standing atop of a liquor store, almost loses her hand stopping an older woman from closing the door that leads up to some stairs. Jongdae catches up to her in a light trot and she puts on her best trustworthy stranger voice.

“Hi, sorry, we talked to the owner about one the apartments available, we were close and wanted to take a look, could you maybe–”

“Ah,” she says, the look of surprise she put at first being replaced by a kind smile “Of course, come in, it’s by the upper floor.”

Jongdae thanks her profusely, following her up the stairs, not without looking over his shoulder and giving her a scandalized look to which she mouths that they need to hurry up. The lady’s taking the time of her life, talking about how the owner usually arranges appointments with people to show them around the building himself.

“Are you two…?”

“She’s my sister” Jongdae says, taking a bag from the lady and hopefully making her walk a little faster.

“I see” the lady says. “Well, if you want to maybe the girl who lives next door could let you have a look so that you get the idea about the size and arrangement.”

Rina does her best at inspecting the first floor, finding only closed doors and a gray cat that meows at her as she steps on his mat, catching up to them by running up the last set of stairs to the third floor. There Jongdae tries to look inside the empty apartment through the dirty window as the old lady knocks on the door next to it.

“She’s usually not home during the day but–” she’s interrupted by the loud wailing of a child.

The door opens after the sound of several locks being handled, only by an inch or two. Rina’s eyes flow open slightly, Jongdae frowns in concern when he looks at her and then he gets it.

There, through the barely open door, is unmistakably Im Nayeon, very much alive, in the flesh, wiping sweat from her jaw while holding a small towel.

“Can I help you?” she then looks at Jongdae, who does a great job keeping a relaxed posture and then at Rina, who smiles just a little and gets nothing in return. This is not what they expected, but it feels like a small victory. Nayeon’s alive, and at the same time Rina feels dread because they’re wasting time.

 _You have about fifteen minutes, maybe less, men are heading there as we speak._

“These kids are interested in the apartment next door, Mr. Jung forgot to leave a key downstairs and they were wondering if they could maybe take a quick look at your place just to get an idea, if you want to, of course, you sound… busy. Is it one of those bellyaches again?”

Nayeon’s face reflects her inner conflict for a second, scanning the two of them again with her mouth slightly open. She’s a lot skinnier than she looks in the last pictures she posted, there’s years, not months, added to her face. She’s had it rough, no doubt.

She lets out a pained laugh “He’s been moody since I woke him up earlier, I think he’ll hate me for the rest of the day.” she looks over her shoulder, turning back to them "I don’t want to be rude but, we’re late to our appointment and–“

"Oh,” the lady says. “Of course, no–”

“It’ll take no time, I promise” Rina rushes up to say, cutting the lady off “I just want to get a feel about the size of the kitchen, it’s what I’m interested about the most, do you mind?”

“I–” smacking her lips and letting her hand drop from the door frame to her side, she moves enough to let her walk through. “Uh… sure, just– if you could make it quick, please.”

She can feel her eyes stare at her as she makes her way inside, there’s no doubt she’s uncomfortable with letting strangers inside her home, Jongdae takes the liberty to make up some lame excuse.

“Yeah, she’s training to become a chef, so…”

It’s a small place, but the area is known for having ridiculous rental fees these days. Nayeon’s not here to save up money, but to hide properly. Trying to come up with her next move Rina trips, cursing when she hears the sound of plastic being crushed, looking down at a messed up hand rattle as she vaguely registers Jongdae thanking Nayeon for her help.

Her attention is caught by a funny noise, she walks inside the small living room to see the open door to a room where, next to a sleeping mat on the floor, inside a fenced play area, is a baby, trying hard to reach out to a small plushie.

“The kitchen is this way.” Nayeon says, frowning at the way Rina jumps and turns to look behind her.

Jongdae is a few steps behind her, staring at the toy she stepped on with a look of realization on him, putting the pieces together. With a baby involved, things just get a lot more complicated.

“This is gonna sound crazy, and you have no reason to trust us” she says stiffly, turning to Nayeon, searching her eyes almost pleadingly “But it’s very important that we leave right now, there are men coming, they know you’re here.”

Nayeon blinks, walks past her to shut the bedroom door closed, taking her time to turn around and face them, like she’s making up her mind to do something she’s practiced several times before. Rina meets her eyes hoping to strike something in her.

Surprise. Fear. Acceptance.

“Leave”

“We–” she interrupts Jongdae mercilessly.

“I said leave, now.”

It’ll take more than eye contact. Not only has Naeyon been made to not trust people, she’s also fast, using the second Jongdae and her waste by looking at each other trying to come up with a different approach. The gun she pulls out from under a small coffee table now pointed at her. “Get out of my house or I’ll shoot you, the two of you”

Hands in the air, Rina breathes in, looking behind her where Jongdae has reached behind his jeans and looks in pain that it has come to this. She shakes her head, he drops his hand.

Nayeon hands shake but she adjusts her grip, tenses her shoulders, and Rina doesn’t think that she’ll hesitate, not when she’s standing between them, two strangers inside her home, and her kid. She’s surviving for two now.

“Haneul said he thought you were acting weird before the explosion, he was suspicious that you could be pregnant but didn’t have the heart to ask directly.” she tries. At the mention of her brother’s name, Nayeon’s eyes widen, breath stuttering.

“W- what?”

“It’s not much, and you have no reason to believe me, but I’ve been trying to help him find the people responsible for what was done, he told me about the drive you left for him. I haven’t said anything to him about the possibility of you being alive because I didn’t want to raise his hopes up, but I know nothing will make him happier than seeing you again.” she says.

 _“Shit, shit shit.”_ Chanyeol says _“I just got here, you guys have to get out of there now. There’s eight of them. They parked at the front at first, but the car is going around the block.”_

“We need to leave now” Jongdae says, his eyes looking around for a fire escape or anything similar.

“I saw a picture of you two next to his bible, you were fighting over a brown puppy, Haneul was still in diapers and you had just cut your own bangs”

“Rina” Jongdae rushes, growing uneasy

“Please” Rina says, extending her open palm towards her. “We’ll get you two somewhere safe, I promise, but we have to leave before they get here.”

With her chest deflating and nostrils slightly flaring, Nayeon nods, hands her the gun and walks into the grabbing the baby in her arms while whispering soothing words against a tiny pink ear.

“Come on” Jongdae says, pulling his gun out and looking out of the front door before nodding at them.

Rina goes first, with Nayeon and the baby between them.

“There’s an old set of stairs no one uses anymore,” she says, pointing to the opposite direction she was heading to “They lead to the back”

“Yeol, wait for us at the back, we’ll meet you there” Jongdae says, looking over his back when the sound of several steps walking through the lower floor is heard. “Go, go, go.”

They rush to find the stairway, only to find it blocked by a metal gate and a huge lock and chains. Rina hisses, checking the ammo on Nayeon’s gun just to asses how ugly things will get when they inevitably appear up the stairs and find them.

Jongdae turns around, looking over the railway and snapping his fingers with a _Ah!_ walking the opposite way and signaling for them follow him.

“You said you blocked the balcony door to your apartment, right? But the other one…”

He takes a few steps back before bringing his right foot up and kicks the door, cursing under his breath when it doesn’t work. Rina presses her side against it, nodding at him to do the same, they silently nod before slamming themselves against it, the old thing creaks under their combined strength.

“Again.”

This time the hinges give up and Rina loses her balance, only being able to stay on her feet because Jongdae is quick to grab her arm, just as the sound of a fire siren is heard through the building.

“They’re here,” Nayeon says, waking inside just as bullets start raining from the hallway, head leaning over her baby protectively. “I pressed the fire alarm, I thought it might help.”

“It will.” Rina nods.

Jongdae moves a big old bookcase to cover the hole left by the door and Rina presses a couch against it, watching as Nayeon fights to make the old sliding window move, finally walking out and staring down, turning to look at them with eyes filled with fear.

“It’s too high.”

There’s a first kick to the bookcase.

It’s definitely too high a jump to the street to possibly make it, even harder considering there’s a baby in the equation, but as she leans down, she finds the overhang to the liquor store, although not too wide, is made out of hard concrete. It should be a solid enough place to land on.

“What are you doing?” Jongdae asks from inside, just as she throws a leg over the balcony and grabs the edge of the rail. “Rin-”

Flexing her knees, she barely manages to grab the edge of the led sign before falling to the ground. She stands up, arms extended up so that Nayeon gets the idea, and she looks absolutely terrified when she does.

“You won’t be able to come down while holding him.” she says, seeing the indisposition in her eyes. Eventually, as Jongdae walks out and a loud slamming noise is heard, she jumps to her knees and puts the baby through the space between the metal rails, barely releasing them when Rina’s hands secure themselves around the baby’s lower torso.

She can’t remember the last time she held a baby, even worse, a crying baby while trying to climb down from a second floor, but there’s no much time to think about it as Chanyeol makes a turn and parks down the street, stepping out of the car and watching them with worried eyes as he runs his hands through his hair. People on the street start to gather around, walking out of the liquor store, agitated by the fire alarm.

He grabs the baby from her hands and secures him to his side, keeping another one extended towards her but she’s already jumping, and so he helps a shaking Nayeon instead, giving her her baby and telling her to get in the car.

One of the men walks out of the entrance to the building, the sight of a gun pointed at them making people scatter around and start screaming, making way for them to get in the car as Jongdae stops to tell them to leave.

“Just come down!” Rina screams, pulling her gun out and aiming at the shooter as she stays behind the open door to the back seat next to Chanyeol, who has his gun ready himself to start shooting. The two overpower the man, sending him hiding behind a taxi for cover.

Jongdae finally jumps down from the second floor, head down as he surrounds the car and gets inside the passenger seat, barely closing the door when Chanyeol presses his feet on the gas, speeding down the street, leaving the sound of gunshots behind them.

**01:57 pm**

Pressing a finger against his mouth, Jongdae gives the boys his best attempt at threatening eyes. 

The baby is brought inside, sleeping soundly as if nothing is wrong in this world, wrapped in a forgotten blue sweater that Chanyeol recognizes immediately, in the arms of his mother. _Haneul_ , that’s his name, he was born when spring began, one of the hardest days of Naeyon’s life. The last part she said quietly to herself, only for Rina’s ears to catch.

Rina leads the two upstairs to Baekhyun’s room, tells her to take her time to relax a little. She calmed down considerably during the drive home, but seeing a bunch of strange men doing poor attempt at pretending not to be staring when she crossed the living room was enough to spike her nerves again. 

Like Jongdae, Rina has to quietly scold them for being weird as she walks up the stairs, forcing down a laugh when Kato, pressing himself against Sehun’s knees, drops his head to the side, not understanding what’s happening.

When she’s back, after reassuring Naeyon to let her know if they need anything, _like_ _seriously,_ _anything,_ she finds them crowding the station, and Jongdae’s whining loudly about his bones and joints not being made to go around jumping from buildings. Jongin sits on the floor next to him, massaging his thighs.

“I swear I could feel my joints get fucked, seriously”

“That’s horrible” Sehun laments “That never happens to me. I know how to land”

“Yah, you try to jump down from a building while you’re getting shot at, it’s not easy!”

She’s headed to the kitchen, mouth watering at the thought of a crisp glass of iced water she’s been fantasizing about, when she hears the name being called.

“Get in here." 

She stops and blinks, wondering what his voice is getting all tight for.

” _Now_ , Rina. We need to talk.“

Her shoulders sag, she already has an idea about what’s coming. 

"Do we need to _talk_ , or do you need give me a lecture while I listen in silence?”

Surprisingly, Yixing takes over the interrogation “How did Namjoon’s men know where you guys were?”

Her mouth opens and closes once or twice, taken aback by the lines crossing his forehead and the way his arms are tightly crossed.

“I don’t know if, how or why they did” she finally answers. She was expecting a question like this, she was just hoping they’d let her put her hair down and have a drink first “You must’ve noticed that I wasn’t expecting that call either”

“We didn’t actually.” Junmyeon’s voice is clipped, no trace of the man blushing and doing a terrible job disguising his crush earlier this morning. “You were too busy ignoring orders and doing exactly what you were told not to.”

She groans, resting her temple against the edge of the glass.

“Nayeon and the baby are upstairs, _alive_ , because I decided to ignore those orders and did _exactly what I was told not to_.” Yixing shakes his head, scratching his eye, looking away.

“But it could’ve been a set up.” Jongin butts in “Don’t you think it was awfully convenient that you got help at the right time, moments before they got there?”

“I don’t remember asking you for your take on this.” His face crumbles into surprise mixed with embarrassment. This one lacks the bite Oh Sehun has, she almost feels bad for answering so harshly.

“Hey” Junmyeon scolds her. “Watch it, we’re all adults here, there’s no reason to get disrespectful.”

“Disrespectful? You’re implying that I have some pact on the side with them, why would I give anyone our location? Why would I willingly risk Nayeon’s or Jeongyeon life? You’re making no sense, why are you so angry that things turned out well?”

“Because that’s not how we do things,” Jongdae says, significantly calmer than the rest “We’re supposed to be a team, and what you did was reckless.”

Junmyeon looks at the ceiling and extends an open palm towards Jongdae like finally, _finally_ someone managed to put it through her head before looking at her with wide eyes and the edges of his mouth turned down.

“How are we supposed to trust you if you go around doing things like that? And now you’re acting like there’s nothing strange about the call you got, come on, you know better than that.”

She gives herself a second to calm down, knowing if she goes off on them like she so badly wants to, it’ll be easier for them to dismiss her as being unreasonable. Jung Jiah, master of self control.

“You don’t want to trust me, you want to find the smallest slip to accuse me of some conspiracy against you that’s not even there, don’t act like you haven’t been tapping my phone for god knows how long, or that you didn’t send Yixing to Hwasong to fact check what I told you two the other night.”

The man in question pales.

“What is she talking about?” Chaneyol asks, her mouth twitches into a smile. 

“You forgot to wipe the windshield, Xing. Those red ugly flowers?” she looks at Junmyeon “That kind of tree doesn’t grow just anywhere in the country, but the woods around Hwasong are filled with them”

Silence, once again. She chuckles.

“You say you want to trust me so bad, but you’re all hiding shadier shit than I could ever dream of, let’s face that, and yes there’s stuff I keep to myself, but that’s personal.”

“If you have nothing to hide, then who’s Casablanca?” Chanyeol rests his chin on his palm. Her eyes turn to slits “Go ahead, or is that personal too?”

“I knew you were fucking tapping my phone–”

“You were having check-ins with _them_ hiding in Baekhyun’s bathroom the first time you were here, it had nothing to do with tapped phones.” Chanyeol asserts “So, who’s Casablanca?”

Today, from the moment she woke up and during the drive to the hospital, she kept replaying Minseok’s threat in her head. Over and over again. Ultimately, she came up with a plan; she’d stick around until they found Nayeon, make sure she got somewhere safe with Haneul, and then she’d carry on with her life.

Being here is tiring. All these questions exhaust her, not working on her own might be weight lifting, but it the end it only drags her down. She promised herself she’d find a way back to her version of normal, and she’s very well aware that it can’t, and doesn’t include them. 

“Just answer the question, Rina.” Baekhyun speaks, almost pleadingly, she imagines he’s the one who’s had to stick up to her when she’s not in the room.

As the cherry on top, Minseok lets out the faintest of chuckles, turning to look at Junmyeon, and it’s all she needs to put an end to this.

“This is a joke. Has it occurred to any you that I don’t want to be part of your little _Suho’s_ Angels Club, or whatever the hell this is? I don’t need to be questioned like some war criminal, I don’t need you to trust me, and I don’t need your threats” at the last part she sets her glare on Minseok, he meets her eyes with the same piercing coldness she felt the night before.

“If you’re so curious about about what I do, know and who I talk to, then you will only _if_ and _when_ I want to. That’s my choice. You don’t get to go behind my back while you keep your own dirty secrets to yourselves. I’m not just some name like I’ve heard you call people.”

The last part gets some mixed reactions, Baekhyun _flinches_ like she just slapped him across his face, Yixing leans his head to the side like he didn’t hear correctly, Chanyeol’s head whips towards them so quickly it’s almost laughable.

“Where are you going?” Junmyeon demands, not moving from his spot as she walks out. Nayeon will have to face her fear of men alone, she can’t be here with them right now, at least not for the rest of the day.

She needs to cool down. This anger she’s feeling could over power her senses if they go on with this.

“Have Baekhyun track my phone if you want to know so badly.”

* * *

**081818 - 09:26 pm**

Standing next to Seokjin for half an hour, greeting people that she either doesn’t know, knows but doesn’t care and a few that don’t bother to play off their disdain directed at her wasn’t part of her plan. Half of her daydreams about how comfortable her couch would be on a Sunday night such as this, the other half distracts herself with how beautifully the place is decorated.

Long, lush strings of flowers, greenery, and crystals hang from the ceiling, blurred out with lights that make the place look like a Renoir painting. Only the best for this wedding, because it isn’t every day that families like the Hongs and the Nams are brought together.

This is how you end a decade long conflict, right? You throw a wedding.

“Remind me again how I ended up here.”

Looking dapper in a baby blue two piece suit, she doesn’t have to turn around and look at him to know Seokjin has a pleasant smile plastered on his face, nodding at the guests as they walk past, bowing every now and then, saying just the right thing when they stick around enough for a quick chat. 

“Ask yourself that, you’re the one putting herself in situations you claim to despise.” he mutters through a smile that involves his mouth and eyes “I have to admit, I’ve never met anyone who loves to complain as much as you do.”

The hot headed her stomping out of the house misjudged how long she could walk around without direction. Her doorless home was a nono, definitely still under the watch of a certain group of people, and she couldn’t go crash any of the girls places without putting them at risk. 

Eventually, she found herself walking out of a taxi in front of Yoongi’s house, not expecting to find a crowd at the loner’s place, and ceirtanly not expecting to see Namjoon living his best wholesome moment of the year as a regular man in his late twenties at a cookout.

So that’s how it went, she needed a place to stay for the night, she also needed prove a point to Junmyeon and the rest of them, and Yoongi owed her anyway. Trying to kill two brids with a stone, she cornered Namjoon while helping him mop the mess he made in Yoongi’s cellar and _smoothly_ brought up the spying thing Mark was pestering her about.

He somehow twisted things, and now she’s attending this wedding in order to get some answers. She’s not even sure she wants to know that badly anymore. For all she knows Mark is just looking too much into a case of everyday corruption.

When an old man wearing a fucking fedora walks towards them looking like he intends on sticking conversation for a generous amount of time, she turns around only to get dragged back to place by Seokjin.

The man greets the two and introduces his plus one, Rina’s too distracted by her own misery to focus on the names, but one look at the pretty redhead and she’s paying attention, or, well, blinded by her gorgeous smile and sparkly collarbones. The woman compliments her choker, which she inevitably touches as she thanks her.

"She’s famous for wearing those.” the man tells his companion. “They’re her own trademark.”

She _beams_ , and somehow keeps the sultry vibe.

There’s a double meaning to the trademark part that he obviously hints at, his eyes have a sickening glint, Seokjin taps her shoulder as a remind her to brush it up. He’s nobody anyway, probably got an invitation after sucking up to someone like a lap dog.

“Oh? I love that” the woman’s red lips stretch into a big smile “I can see the personality on you, Miss Jung.”

“That’s the understatement of the century” Seokjin jokes. Rina fakes a laugh, scrunching her nose and burying her finger against his sides. He yelps, slapping her hand away.

“It’s a compliment, I saw you from afar and I immediately wanted to talk to you.”

“What she’s trying to say is that I’m boring.” the old man says, caressing her arm when she goes to deny it with a chuckle “I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you two before she steals her away from me.”

She gets her hands on a flute filled as soon as they sit down, gulping it down noisily, almost choking when she feels the chair next to her being pulled back.

“If I’m not mistaken, not so long ago you said to me you’d only wear a dress to my funeral” Namjoon exhales, fixing his pants before sitting down, peering into the skirt of her dress that disappears down the table cloth “Should I be threatened?”

Leave it to Seokjin to get her a dress the morning before the wedding and leave her no choice but to put it on. Made with layers of what looks but doesn’t feel like tulle and embroidered flowers, it’s too pretty and soft for her liking, but it reaches her ankles, it’s not heavy at all and is surprisingly comfortable, so she can’t really complain. Also, she gets to keep it, as a gift, he said, adding that he knows her truck driver wardrobe could use the addition.

“Depends. The newlyweds kissed and cut the cake, are you going to make me wait for them to divorce to tell me what’s this surprise you were speaking of yesterday?” he screws up his face at her.

“Don’t you believe in the power of true love? Look at them, staring at each other like nothing else matters in the world but the other.”

“Love?” she snorts “You people didn’t exactly give them a choice but to marry, give it four months and they’ll decide monogamy is a curse invented by religion.”

“Please, elaborate on that” Namjoon raises one eyebrow. Seokjin sighs.

“I suggest you take your discussion elsewhere where guests can’t hear you,” he groans “and remind me to never invite you to my wedding.”

She stands up first, putting her hands on her hips, glaring down at Namjoon until he relents and follows her.

“Tell me, is Im Nayeon safe?”

“Like you care. I still don’t know what that self-sabotage was about.”

“Oh, there was some sabotage, thanks to your help, but those men weren’t sent by me” he’s delighted by her silence, going to explain how Im Jaebum was a little too eager to get on Lee’s good side by taking the initiative to… erase some loose ends for him. 

She hums, pretending to be invested in the young couple moving from side to side in the middle of the dancefloor.

“And why would you let anyone but _you_ be of help for him, right?” she reasons.

“Ah, everyone’s trying to please the future president. It’s boring, predictable,” his face tilts at her pursed lips “What? Don’t… tell me you actually believed that little stunt you pulled with your recordings was enough too…Oh, sunshine, no, that kind of choice is made long before the candidates are even announced, you should know that, don’t look so disappointed”

Because she’s not here to listen to him preach about the downfall of democracy, she changes the subject, asking how it is that Jaebum’s people found Nayeon. Apparently she was doing a great job blending in until she tried to use one of her old email accounts.

He folds his hands behind his back. “But enough about that, you wanted to talk about something, let’s hear it”

“You remember the Incheon thermal power station?” he gives a nod, frowning at the floor “It seems like the protestors have been arrested out of thin2

"That’s… vague,” he comes to a sudden halt when a girl, head barely reaching his knees, slams herself against him trying to run away from some other kids who back away from them between giggles. He leans down, picks her up and pops a dimple smiling at her. “And you’re never vague, carry on.”

The little girl looks positively charmed by him, bubbly giggles leaving her candy stained mouth as she plays with his earring. She used to believe children have the ability to sense evil energy from people, either she was wrong or this one is damaged.

“They’re being charged left and right, cyber harassment, harassment, terrorism, word is they’re being tracked through social media posts and being spied on. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, the NIS publicly denied it.”

She doesn’t miss how his smile twitches. He covers it up as a woman walks up to them, scolding the girl and thanking Namjoon profusely for stopping her before she ran away any further, apologizing for the interruption.

He widens his arms, showing her his open palms. 

“And what do you want to hear from me?”

She smirks, looking away. The kid is onto something. “So it’s true, then.”

“Contrary to what you might believe, I don’t actually have the answer to every question you have, and I’m not behind every single illegal thing that goes on in this country,” he counters. “You love reminding me you don’t work for me, yet you’re always coming back like I’m your personal oracle, isn’t that a little unfair?”

God, what is it with men being assholes these days? Namjoon clicks his tongue, grabs her arm before she can flee and wraps it around his elbow, slowing down the pace.

“Your war against Lee Chungjae? I respected that, I encourage it, really. Even though I always say you waste your talents playing whistleblower for that newspaper, I recognize that this city needs people like you.”

“ _People like me?_ ”

“But this? It’s better to stay away from it” he smiles to himself, shifting his head to the side. “If you think this… thing you’re uncovering with Chungjae is serious, this goes miles deeper, there’s no point trying to dig that up unless you want to end up back behind bars somewhere far away.”

The thought of it is enough to make her shiver. He feels it, his fingers caress her arm, but they’re too cold for comfort… no, this is a warning. It doesn’t matter, right now she’s thinking about to the boy who’s probably behind his screens, their reflection clear on his glasses, digging up something he shouldn’t be fucking with.

He’s been leading them to the table where the cake is put to display, dripping with flowers, going past the top of his head. Taking the cupcake he offers, she refuses to take a bite when his eyes are twinkling like that.

He notices her hesitance “There’s a man to your 1000, the foreigner in a pearl suit next to the woman with the blonde bob.”

She turns around, taking in the sight of the place perfectly from here, sharp eyes finding the one guest who fits the description. His profile says he’s around his sixties, eyelids hanging over blue eyes under a pair of thick glasses.

“Looks familiar?” she shakes her head no, slightly overwhelmed by the smell of roses is “He goes by the name Daniel Green, but his real name is Ben Gallagher. He’s one of England’s most brilliant doctors, his specialty is biomedical engineering, well– he used to be, he died, supposedly, you know better than anyone how usual that is.”

She puts the cupcake back on the table, not caring where she leaves it, crossing her arms and turning to look at him as he licks the frosting with a very deliberate look on his face.

“He has a huge resume behind him, during his last contract he was paid a lot of zeroes by our government, too many zeroes to be just some doctor at Hwasong Correctional Facility.” and _there_ _it is_ “No one suspects he was actually working for a secret intelligence agency known as _High Tide_ , running tests on poor, helpless, young imprisoned women.”

By the middle of his sentence, her body has contorted to a thing of tension, feet spinning under her to give the old man her back and put as much distance between them. Namjoon’s there to stop her again, goes as far as to pretend to be hugging her. Her desperate eyes move all across the room looking for a way out and tell a whole different story to this embrace.

She breathes, forces herself to think coldly of this, the entrance is out of choice because she has to walk past the doctor’s table to get there, she has to find an alternative, anything, a fire escape, a back door. Something. There must be away out.

“Calm. Down.” he orders, sternly, pointedly, not doing much to soothe her as he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back “Even if he looks at you, he wouldn’t be able to recognize you, not that it matters if he does.”

God, she’s always known what kind of man Namjoon is, never tried once to fool herself. She saw him come home with blood stains on his shirts, she felt the felt the blunt end of his power when he had a bunch of his men beat her up under the pretense of teaching her to fend for herself. 

But there is no way, no way he can be this cruel. No way he can do this to her right now. 

Over his shoulder, she sees Taehyung walk past in a peach colored suit, his arm thrown over Jeon Jungkook’s shoulders. He meets his eyes and his boxy grin fades, looking away from her like the sight of her is burning his eyeballs.

“Breathe, sunshine, I’m not done yet” Namjoon purrs, cupping her face and tilting his down.

“Why?” she swallows harshly “ _Why_ do you have him here?”

His eyes widen, blinking quickly and shifting his feet.

“Because it’s what you want, to know what was done to you while you were there, to have this” his right hand, cold and harsh, sliding from her jaw to the back of her ear, one finger buried inside the strands of hair pulled back on a messy bun, cold fingers tapping the skin there “removed and carry on with your life. You deserve that, I want that for you”

Pulling back from his grip, she feels like she’s finally able to breathe after hours of suffocating. Millions of thoughts cascade down her head, while it’s true there was a time she was obsessed with the subject, she learned to live with it and pushed it to the back of her mind because that’s how you move on. Now that he’s suddenly bringing it back, she’s lost direction.

“Are you sure it’s him?”

He nods “The only reason he’s still alive and not in jail somewhere in Europe paying for his crimes is that we helped him in and gave him a new life. He has kids back home, we… look over them too.”

She dares herself to look at him again, laughing out loud as he takes a sip of his drink, pale hands resembling that of a corpse, she grimaces.

“But I’m afraid it’s not that easy,” of couse it’s not, how could it be? “I can’t hand it all to you just like that.” he sighs, acting like it’s a terrible thing and he has no choice. “It’s been brought to my attention that I may have been a little too… light-handed with you in the past.”

Mentally pinching her nose, she sighs.

“Who? Jeon fucking Jungkook?”

“Language,” he reminds her “Let’s say the Nams weren’t happy after you beat up their son”

“Right” she rolls her eyes, not surprised the fucker lied about his side of the story, probably asked for his ugly gun back too “What’s the catch?”

“There’s something I need you to do for me.” he licks his lips, looks over her head and fights back a smile. “It’ll be easy, considering it’s you, so you can’t say I’m asking for too much. Mmm, maybe it depends on how badly you want it.”

“Just spit it out, Joon.” she grunts

“There’s someone we’ve been doing business with recently, the perfect partnership, they don’t ask too much that it’s annoying, don’t make things too easy so that it brings out suspicion. What’s been bothering me is… we haven’t quite found their motives.”

“Money?” she spits out like it’s obvious.

“Money isn’t half as important as people think,” Namjoon says, smiling when she looks around pointedly as if to retaliate. “I can tell when people aren’t after money, and something tells me they’re not after power either, and while I don’t like that one bit, I haven’t found a reason to act on it like I wish I could.”

“Who are we talking about, then?” he nods in a particular direction, right to where Seokjin is seated.

“Over there” he says. Her worn out expression is washed away as soon as she follows the direction he’s pointing with his chin at.

Seokjin stands up from his seat, bowing down and offering two men a seat next to him in the empty table. Junmyeon turns a little, exchanging words with him, nex to him Minseok offers a polite smile as he looks around.

Seokjin leans in closer Junmyeonn to let him say something in his ear, making him look over his back. In the blink of an eye, the three are looking at them.

“You’re familiar with them, Kim Suho and Kim Xiumin.” Namjoon says, saying hi with a curt nod “I want every piece of information you can get on them, their operations, background, get their trust, give me a reason, then you decide what we do with Doctor Gallagher.”

**10:34 pm**

“Are you alright? Do you want to sit down?”

She gives him a reassuring smile and a shake of her head, adjusting her arm over his shoulder. With her anger towards him overlayed by recent events, she found she didn’t exactly have a reason to say no when he asked if she wanted to dance. Namjoon, the vicious bastard, encouraged the two, and she felt as he grabbed her hand that he could sense something was off.

He just doesn’t know what it is yet.

“It’s just…” she tries to explain lamely “Weddings, I mean, at least not fancy like this, aren’t my thing.”

“So why are you here?” he asks, furrowing his brow in curiosity, tripping on his own tongue when he realizes it might come off as something else. “We were just surprised, that’s all, we weren’t expecting to see you here, not that I think there’s anything–”

“I get it.” she laughs, he relaxes a little, fixing his grip on her “How are Nayeon and the baby?”

“They’re safe, doing fine” he nods. “Yixing took them to a safe house where they can get some privacy. You were right, it’s hard for her to trust any of us, she keeps asking for you.”

Nayeon must be really closed off if not even Yixing can get a little closer to her, she thinks, but she understands her reasons better than anyone.

“I wanted to call you, but I–" 

"Jun—”

She chuckles first, and he’s quick to follow, eyes turning to slits as he looks down at their feet. “You go first.”

“You were also right about what you said,” he says. “It was wrong of us to invade your privacy. I’m sorry we came off like we were looking for a reason to attack you, but I hope you understand we have a lot to protect too.”

He says this as he slowly turns them around so that she faces the opposite way, where Seokjin sits with some other guests, but what she’s really distracted by is Namjoon and Minseok, who stand at the back, deep in conversation.

“I do” she says, biting cheek “It’s just confusing that you gave me that speech about belonging and then the next day you were holding things against me like that.”

“There’s a lot…” he pauses. Conflict, it flashes across his face so clearly, no one has taught him to guard his emotions, so how does he survive the indicate? “so, so much I wish I could tell you.”

If she really pays attention, he looks just like someone who has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and maybe she’s stupid for wanting to take it off from him immediately.

“But I can’t” he deflates. “Not yet. I know I will, soon, though, I will, then you’ll understand everything, I promise.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about” she mumbles, frowning and smiling at the same time. “But it’s ok.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“You looked sick earlier, while Namjoon was talking to you,” he says. “I’m not trying to pry, I don’t know what kind… relationship you two have, but if you need help, if he's—”

“No, no.” she says. “It’s nothing like that. I can handle Namjoon, so don’t worry about it.”

Nothing about his nod tells her she was convincing, a bitter laugh forms inside her chest because here he is, trying to somehow protect her from him when in reality it’s them Namjoon is after.

“I wouldn’t be here if he was a threat.”

“Speaking of that” he fixes his throat “I want to ask this of you. Next time there’s a confrontation like the one we had yesterday…”

“Next time” she laughs, because it’s clear it won’t be the last, not until this is all done with and they can finally part ways, and god knows when that’ll be.

That exchange with Namjoon complicates everything, even her promise to herself starts to lose meaning.

“Don’t just walk away like that.” her smile falls. “Stay, we can always talk things out, even if I get in a bad mood.”

“… or if I lose my patience”

“Yes. Even if we lose our cool, there’s a lot we still need to talk about, but you need to be there for that to happen.”

She smiles, just looks at him, finally finding what’s been bothering about his look today; it’s the way his hair is perfectly parted on the side, pushed back and making him look all proper, uptight and boring. 

Under her close inspection, his brows get closer in the middle, pout becoming more prominent when she rests her chin on his shoulder and closes her eyes. She lets the sound of people talking melt into the music, wanting nothing more to take off her shoes, this dress and take a nap, then think things through later.

Because even if Kim Junmyeon has the weight of the world on his shoulders, she has her own to carry with, and right now, at this moment, _because of them_ , it’s three times as heavy as it’s ever been.

Moments later her feet are screaming at her to take off her heels, she tries not to look too much like a weakling by putting her body weight on Junmyeon as they move out of the dancing crowd. Namjoon and Minseok walk side by side to meet them halfway. The way they’re avoiding to look at each other’s faces as much as possible makes her wonder if they just accidentally kiss or something.

Judging from the weird gleam of satisfaction on Namjoon’s eyes, and the way Minseok’s cheeks sink around his mouth as he looks only at Junmyeon, something a lot more intense went on between them.

“Thank you for coming, Xiumin was just telling me you’re leaving early,” Namjoon says. “It’s unfortunate, but I’ll let everyone know you stayed as long as you could, I’m sure they’ll be grateful.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Junmyeon nods. “Thank you.”

“No reason to. It’s very nice of you to offer driving Jiah home safely.” he nods, putting his arm around her and looking down at her, but she keeps her eyes forward, crossing eyes with Minseok who flinches away from her gaze. “It’s late, we wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her out there”

“We should go,” Minseok tells Junmyeon, who nods and moves to the side, lifting his arm as if to tell her to go first.

“Let me know when you get there,” Namjoon says, loudly enough for them to her, leaning down to press his lips to her temple.

She’s too entranced by the double meaning Namjoon’s words hold and doesn’t recoil from his touch like she would usually do. He’s never like this with her unless it is to prove something, and it’s very clear to her he’s only doing it to bring out some sort of reaction.

The tension is as thick as it could possibly be, Minseok stares at Namjoon with a steely expression she doesn’t know how to read, Junmyeon looks at her with that indecision and worry flashing through his face. The silent exchange is broken off as soon as Namjoon backs away and she’s able to breathe.

“Alright” Junmyeon fixes his throat “Let’s go home, then.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I forgot to clarify this when I posted the first seven chapters: This work is heavily inspired by the show Person of Interest (one of the best I’ve ever seen) created by Jonathan Nolan, so if you’re familiar with it you might have an idea of where this is going, if you don’t don’t worry! Stuff will be explained as the story unfolds. 
> 
> Also TW, this chapter has a sexual assault scene, it's not too detailed and it's really short, just please keep that in mind before reading.

**_081210 - 7:16 pm_ **

_He said he’d pick her up around 6 pm_

_It’s been about fifteen minutes past 7 pm._

_Her small but noisy group of friends fail to notice her slidding off the booth, past Jihyo, who’s standing with her knees on the cushion seat to get the upper hand. It’s been too much of a fun afternoon to want it to end, knowing them they’ll probably stay after she leaves, because he said he’d pick her up for dinner like he does every year._

_The old lady behind the counter who always reminds her how she used to despise wearing shoes as a kid asks her where she’s going. The street is as empty as it can be, still, glittery with water and lights._

_There’s nothing left for her to do but stand in the middle of the sidewalk and stare at the corner, anticipating._

_“Hey, where are you going? Come back inside.” Minhee grasps her hand in hers, searching for her face. Behind her Kyungsoo looks up at the sky, worrying about the scolding he will get from his mother if he gets home all soaked and wakes up with a cold._

_“Your dad’s not here yet?”_

_Minhee turns around mockingly, making him flinch. “Clearly, Kyungsoo. Does it look like he’s here to you?”_

_“What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting like this all week, what did I ever do to you, huh?”_

_“This is how I am all the time, if you don’t like–”_

_“Bullshit, everything I do bothers you lately, I’m sick of it”  
_

_There’s no way Minhee will tell him that she took it to heart that he helped Yeojin with her algebra homework and then invited her tonight, and there’s no way clueless Kyungsoo will be able to see for himself that it took Minhee seeing him laughing with some girl with lashes longer than hers to realize she has a crush on him. A clueless pair, really, she can just hope it doesn’t break their somewhat imperfect triangle of a friendship._

_It isn’t her father’s car that makes a turn at the corner and stops in front of the pizza shop but she has some hope left it’s him. The passenger window rolls down ever so slowly._

_But the man behind the wheel is not her father. He’s maybe too young to be called a man. He does squint at them like he needs thick glasses, just like her father does._

_“Are you Kang Rina?” he asks. She blinks, startled. Kyungsoo and Minhee look at each other in suprise, their little fight long is forgotten._

_She surveys the car, windows tinted a shade too dark, black painting too shiny, rims too fancy._

_She takes a measured step back, knowing better than to trust a stranger. No one in this neighborhood can afford a car like this, only the men Yifan hangs out with lately, the same ones Minseok asked her to stay away from, a piece of advice he himself doesn’t follow, much to her annoyance._

_But that’s not what she’s thinking about right now._

_“Your father asked me to pick you up. You’re Rina, right?”_

_“How do you know?” Minhee steps in front of her and crosses her arms. For someone who constantly tells her she needs to grow up and act her age, she’s pretty dense for giving him the answer she avoided at first._

_The guy blinks at Minhee, dipping his head to the side to set his eyes on her again._

_“He said you’d have scrapped knees.”_

_She freezes, suddenly feeling awkward, fingers gripping the hem of her wrinkled uniform skirt. Now that she’s really looked at him there is something… vaguely familiar about his face, but the rest of him says there’s no way they’ve met before._

_“He said to tell him if you don’t trust me at first” he chuckles “But he really did ask me to pick you up, I’m the son of one of his colleagues, the two are running late on a very important meeting and he said he wouldn’t be able to pick you up.” he explains. “I’m Kim Junmyeon, by the way, I can call my father’s assistant if you want me to”_

_No. It isn’t_ his _face that she’s seen before, but the strange man she accidentally ran into a few months back as he walked out of her home. Kim Junmyeon is the spitting image of his father, except younger, hopefully kinder. He has the face and voice of someone you want to trust, and so she pulls on the handle, despite Minhee’s and Kyungsoo’s protests._

_“They’re good friends,” he nods, pulling the window up much to her demise, tucking the two inside a comfortable silence, muted from the sounds of the rain. “They must really care about you.”_

_He doesn’t mind that she doesn’t answer, driving them diligently to god knows where. The only time he turns to give her a look as they stop at a red light, his eyes catch the happy birthday tiara stuck on her head and how it pulls her ears forward. Mentally cursing herself for forgetting she was supposed to give it back to the waiter, she hastily pulls it off, messing up her hair and clutching it between her hands over her lap._

_“How old are you?"_

_"Sixteen.” she says, no longer recognizing this area of the city. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe she should’ve let him call his father, then she wouldn’t feel her nerves spike now and then._

_“Ah.” he nods. “I’m nineteen, in case you were wondering.”_

_She wasn’t. That much he can tell by her uninterested blink as she keeps her eyes up front. If he hasn’t annoyed the grumpy teenager next to him, the light hearted chuckle he lets out certainly does the job._

_Junmyeon lives in an actual house outside of the city with a front and backyard and a kitchen that looks out of a cooking show, filled with spotlights and a shiny floor cold enough to be felt through her uniform socks. He tells her to make herself at home, and that her father will come soon._

_With a kitchen like this, she can’t help but wonder what the rest of this place looks like, she goes back to the tall hallway he led her through, head turning around to take in the living room, soon enough finding herself inside some the one room that caught her eye._

_A studio, the walls are are covered in bookcases so tall that there’s a long long stair resting against it. She thought her father and her collected enough books to fill up library, but this is on a whole other level._

_“Girl? Where are you?"_

_Slow steps fade away and return until he finds her. She turns to him masking her awe from seconds before, finding him holding a small plate with a tiny cake and a match stuck on top, messing up the frosting. "Here…”_

_He puts it down on the mahogany, slowly, carefully, trying to keep the small flame alive._

_“You should… you should hurry up and make a wish,” he says worriedly, wiping his hands against his shirt.“I don’t know about you, but I don’t like how the taste of ashes goes with chocolate”_

_Kim Junmyeon isn’t aware of how silly he looks taking this whole thing so seriously, that’s how she decides he might be good person, maybe someone she can make fun of if he’s not as uptight as the car he drives and his hair make him look._

_“You’re not– gonna start singing happy birthday to me, are you?” she asks carefully, a little nervous that he’ll take it the wrong way, but he picks up on her tone and laughs, shaking his head._

_“Go on, just make a wish, hurry”_

_She holds her hair back and blows on it, grabbing the thing and giving it a good bite._

_“Why?” she asks, swallowing roughly and licking some chocolate off her finger. Some milk to wash it down would’ve been good, but she’s not going to complain._

_“You looked upset that I wasn’t your dad picking you up.” he shrugs, eyeing what’s left of it “I know how that feels.”_

_“Is your father a constant disappointment too?” his eyes widen at her choice of words but he accepts her offering, staring at her for a moment and she raises her eyebrows. “Then no, you don’t know how that feels, Kim Junmyeon”_

_He chews slowly, shaking his head and chuckling. For a man as quiet and composed as her father, the daughter sure has an attitude._

_“He’s not home a lot, it was always like that when I grew up. I wouldn’t say he’s a disappointment, but I suppose I felt the same when I was your age,” he says, finishing it up with a big bite. “Ah, that was good.”_

_She scoffs at how easily he dismisses her because she’s younger, like he discovered life’s secrets as soon as he got his drivers license and she’s just naive._

_Finding annoyance entertaining, he crosses his arms and beams at her “So, girl–"_

_"Rina” she cuts him off “Kang Rina.”_

_“So, Kang Rina, do you like books?”_

_**082518 - 01:34 am** _

_**Present Day.** _

It took a week to arrange the last hit.

Putting pieces together, filling spots, highlighting the ones still missing on Baekhyun’s crystal board. A single brutal swing to get enough dirt on Lee Chungjae’s for the prosecution. It needs to be thorough enough if they want his fall to set forth the collapse of the entity that sent Nayeon into hiding and made several girls disappear, no matter how respected, powerful or feared the parties involved are.

It began that Monday, when Jondgae jogged inside the kitchen, ordering them to shut up and hastily turned on the tv.

“Just shut up for five minutes!” he snaped at Baekhyun “Look.”

Lee Chungjae’s team had just declared that the tapes were modified in order to frame him, and that they were only released after Chungjae refused to submit to an attempt at blackmailing. Slowly turning towards her, they all saw it, fear and hate in Nayeon’s eyes, hands gripping one of Chanyeol’s favorite mugs so tightly Rina feared it’d break and wipe out the possibility of her daring to speak up like she’d been trying to convince her the whole morning under the false pretense of having breakfast together.

And then, with perfect timing, Jongin walked in holding little Haneul in his arms while the other hand held onto Kato’s leash, filling the quiet space with giggles. Her fear morphed into a whole different thing in a matter of seconds.

Maybe it was these two opposite things, fear and love, that drove her to speak up with the will of a soldier.

“I’ll do it. I’ll declare against him.”

She went back years ago to the days when she first met Hana, the girl that Jongin was trying to seduce, and how they met working at the same cafe. Hana told her about a gig where she could make quick money if she didn’t mind being an escort. She was pretty enough, young, and most importantly; she was late on rent and refused to ask her brother for money again.

For a while, it was a slightly degrading job with a good enough pay to console herself with the promise of dropping it once she was done paying debts, but things took a turn without her even realizing it. In the company of Hana and some other girls she befriended, she was soon partying with the likes of people rich enough to crash a damn yacht and not care too much about it, sleeping around when enough zeroes were offered, and that’s how she met Chungjae.

Chungjae, who said all right things when she needed to hear them. Promises of her deserving better while he made her snort cocaine from his chest, Nayeon now rolled her eyes remembering how their romance turned into a nightmare as soon as he found a new girl for himself to whisper pretty things in her ear, younger, too, barely legal, something she questions even now, repressing a shiver.

Nayeon was no longer the object of his attraction, the apple of his eye, now she was something on his way, even worse; she was pregnant, scared and wanted out, something their _managers_ didn’t agree with _._ One night a fight took a wrong turn, she threatened go to the police and tell them about _them_ , _that_ first time he dared to hit her would be the last and she’d made sure of it. 

_Them,_ because it wasn’t just Chungjae’s abuse, her threat implied many characters such as the lady from the magazine, judges, entertainers and some other people with enough power to not care if getting rid of some mouthy pregnant girl was the only way they could keep their names clean. They called themselves _Club Atlas_ , and while they moved around lavishing parties, drugs and alcohol, they also worked across the city recruiting girls and boys and sucking the life out of them like they almost did with her.

“And the body they found inside your apartment…”

“Jeongyeon.” she mumbles, empty eyes straing at the floor, shaking her head “She asked me to stay the night because she couldn’t sleep alone. She was havinga lot of nightmares. I was almost done setting up everything I needed to leave and came home late. I just saw the fire… and I knew… I just _knew_. I had no time left.”

And so she took it upon herself to handle Jeongyeon’s mother’s bills with the money she stole from Chungjae.

“What about Myoui Mina?”

At the mention of the missing girl’s name Nayeon’s face crumbles, leaning back on the couch and turning to look at Rina, then back at Baekhyun, who squinted at her reaction.

“Mina? How do you– What about her?”

Then Rina remembered Mina went missing a few months after Nayeon supposedly died, she and Baekhyun shared a quick look, and then he understood. Nayeon repeated her question, louder this time, desperation pulling at her words, but it was obvious she was already aware of the answer.

“Nayeon.” Yixing tested the waters looking for her face “Myoui Mina is missing.”

The news hit her differently, they had to call a break.

She explained everything she knew before the sun fell. A to z. What they look for when it comes to their escorts, how they are picked, how the parties are thrown every other week. They operate like almost like a sect, idolizing some conman that made money giving rich people life lessons and convinced them that the bodily fluids of younger people are like vitamins to the body and soul, and so every month they get their fill.

“Do you believe her?” Jongdae asks once Yixing drives Nayeon and Haneul back to the safehouse. “She said she brought some girls in just like Hana did, that puts her on the spot too, you think she wasn’t aware of how messed up it all was?”

“I mean, if she was as high as she says she is, yes.” Kyungsoo mutters, especially quiet during the whole thing, not even bothering to make questions. “That’s how they operate in prostitution rings, most of the girls are too numb to even try to pull away.”

“High or not, seeing the girls you hang out with be gang raped should be enough of a wake up call, you saw how she reacted when you told her about Mina.” Chanyeol counters, grimacing. “I’m not blaming her, ok? She’s a victim either way but–”

“I believe her, when you’re too close and look up at something as big as what she just described…” Rina shakes her head. Her voice startles them, she’d fallen quiet a while ago, taking the unusual spot of a listener "the only thing you can do is get dizzy.“

Chanyeol sighs, supposing she has a point. Across from her, Yixing stares at her, deep in thought, the only one noticing how she’s been scratching her leg, leaving a furiously red patch.

"Add that to the fact that leaving wasn’t precisely a viable choice.” Junmyeon mumbles, deep in thought as he takes off his tie, having arrived later.

The plan is risky. If they don’t get it done in one try, it’ll only give them the chance to clean after themselves. The parties, or charity nights as they call them, are usually hosted in different locations, but usually they’re hosted by Oh Minhee, in one of her many galleries across the city. No cameras, no cellphones allowed, there are strict rules about CCTV systems being shut down because of a privacy breach a few years ago. 

Whatever goes down inside, it never gets to see the light of day, no matter how sick, twisted or illegal.

Almost like an older sister, Nayeon makes it her job to help her get ready, picking up immediately that Rina was far from happy with the role she was assigned. The only thing stopping her from putting Baekhyun and Jondgae in a chokehold when they gave her fake identity and work uniform is the fact that she doesn’t want to give Junmyeon a chance to cut her off and get her to stay home.

Junmyeon, that one’s been off lately. He’s been acting weird since the wedding, quiet, deep in thought, staring at her from afar and assuring her it’s nothing everytime she calls him out. Wednesday night Rina caught him and Jongdae talking in the kitchen. The two immediately went quiet at her presence, staring at her with wide eyes.

“What?” she asked, half amused, a sudden smirk pulling at her tired features as she pretended to scan the fridge looking for the peach yogurts she hid there “You know these walls are paper thin, right? And at night it gets so… quiet, even a sigh can be heard from upstairs.”

Quick-witted Jongdae caught on to her immediately, rolling his eyes at her.

“Professional shit talker, even when you just woke up, aren’t you?" 

"Please tell _Suho_ to unclench, I didn’t hear a thing.” she smiled at the still very tense man, walking past them “Don’t worry, once this Club Atlas thing gets exposed I’ll be on my way, you won’t have to be so tense then, right?”

Minseok is a whole other story. He barely comes, almost like he wants to take no part in this whole thing, or maybe because he’s still avoiding her like the plague. One thing she’s sure of, it has something to do with whatever Namjoon and him discussed.

**09:23 pm**

“It’s ok to be scared, you know?” Nayeon says light heartedly

“Sorry?”

“It’s just, well, you give me the impression of being one of those people who have a hard time admitting that kind of thing.” she explains “Am I wrong?”

She holds Nayeon’s eyes for a while, eventually looking away, missing Nayeon’s soft smile.

“I’m not scared.” she sighs, bringing one manicured hand to scratch at the inner corner of her eye, careful not to mess up the smokey colors lining her eyes or moving the sparkles under, thinking quickly of the next thing that could be bothering her that’s not Namjoon’s proposal “It just pisses me off that Sehun and Jongin get to be _guests_ and I have to squeeze myself into this dumb– latex, torture chamber. I’m irritated, that’s all.”

She’s not exactly lying, the nude colored two piece sticks to her like it wants to sink into her skin, already leaving marks at the seams on her sides, making her sweat in her seat. Even the thigh high boots, made of the same material, are making the back of her knees itch. The number would be good with something big over it, during the winter maybe. But this is summer, she’s about to walk inside of a building filled with perverted rich people that believe they can buy bodies and souls, it’s safe to say she’s disgusted.

“So stay here, they’ve reminded you can that you stay like… ten times since I got here. I’m sure they’ll be fine on their own.”

She stares at her.

“Are you? Because I get the feeling you don’t believe that” Rina says, voice turning serious.

“You’d understand if you knew the way things are inside, it makes you vulnerable. The moment you catch someone’s eyes you turn into a prey. It’s even worse for girls.” she says, stopping to start straightening another strand of hair and looking up at her. “You need to be careful, don’t take drinks from anyone, not even the other girls. If someone does offer you and insists on it just wet your lips, move your throat and pretend to swallow. And please just… stick to the lower floor.”

“It’ll be done in one hour, tops.” Rina nods, straightening her back “Nothing to worry about, we get evidence and Yixing comes in with his people, cuffs ready. They’ll play it as drug-related thing, so they won’t have time to cover up when everything comes out”

“I think you’re the bravest woman I’ve met.” Nayeon mutters under her breath “Knowing what happens in there, and still going in…”

“Hey, give yourself some credit, look at everything you did to make sure Chungjae couldn’t get to you and Haneul…” she says “That was fucking brave, too.”

Nayeon’s eyes soften at the mention of her son, shrugging. She’s been looking better these days, rest does wonders to a person, it could be the safety they’ve provided too, but Rina thinks she won’t allow herself to feel that until this is over.

“That’s what you do when someone threatens the ones you love. You protect them no matter what.”

Nayeon lifts up her eyes to meet her in the reflection, opening her mouth to question the reason for the look on her face when Baekhyun shows up, startling

“Oop, sorry. Should’ve knocked. The guys are ready. Well, Sehun is ready, oh–”

Baekhyun stops as soon as he crosses the bathroom door, turning around and breathing heavily. “Jesus, I thought you were naked for a second there.”

“Well, you guys didn’t precisely get me a nun dress, did you? What were you expecting?” Rina huffs, standing up, letting her arms hit against her sides

Nayeon laughs, entertained by how half flustered half guilty the otherwise flirty guy looks. He’s been making it his job to make her laugh these days. “She’s ready, actually.”

“Just hand me the mic” Rina breathes out, ignoring his pout and grabbing the earpiece from his hand, slipping it inside her left ear, covering it with her hair.

“Also… I got this for you” he says, pulling a nude leather choker from his left pocket “I had the camera welded into it, you know, since the outfit makes it… hard to… conceal anything”

“It’s pretty.” Nayeon says. “And it looks better the one you’re wearing, too.”

Holding it between her hands, she stares at it, the thin chains attached diverting attention from the mini camera.

“Thanks. I’ll be down in a second.”

“Fifteen minutes!” he calls out, walking out with Nayeon, giving her the alone time she needs to put the thing on.

Jongdae’s already waiting with a shot poured for her when she steps into the kitchen, putting himself between her and the couple by the corner, seemingly deep in talk, as they turn to look at her. Whatever private conversation Minseok and Jongin have standing so close to each other ends the moment she gets there.

He laughs at her wobbly legs. “Drink up, bambi, you need it.”

“I sure do” she mumbles, throwing her head back and coming back with a snarl “What the fuck was that?” she looks at the glass “Gasoline?”

“Minseok’s favorite, something like that.” he laughs, looking over his shoulder.

“You look good when you shower, Mauve girl, maybe you should make it a habit” Sehun says, walking past them with his annoyingly long legs, giving her a look over his shoulder. “Hoping to find a sugar daddy tonight, that it?”

“You have Suho to yourself, what’s wrong with me having one?” she asks.

“Alright.” Junmyeon says, giving Sehun a barely threatening look, not seeing Rina pull out her tongue at him. “I’m no one’s sugar daddy and you’re all late.”

Picking up a bunch of keys and shaking them noisily, Jongdae signals for her to lead the way, which she does, not before sending Nayeon a wink on her way out, satisfied with the small, reassuring smile she gets in return.

**10:12 pm**

Dropped off a few blocks away, the location is not so far from the gallery. It’s hard to miss when she finds a horde of girls wearing the exact same clothes she’s in crowding around the back of the hotel, chatting around, some having a cigarette. A few turn to look at her when she gets close, but she loses their attention in an instant. They must be used to seeing new faces.

It’s a heavy, no wind kind of night, and bodies in latex start to get sweaty thanks to the concrete street releasing the heat from the day, the girls fan themselves and start to complan until two white vans make a turn on the corner. 

They move like it’s an everyday thing to them, making a line in each van and waiting until the doors are opened, getting in like little ants. She scratches the insides of her hands, wondering if it’s only her feeling like they’re pigs headed to the massacre.

“You.” One man says, giving off the energy of the one who bosses around. “It’s not part of the dress code, off.”

She halts, much for the annoyance of the girl behind her, just before putting a foot inside the van, her hand immediately going for the choker he points his chin at.

“Leave her be, Gyu.” an older woman steps in, dressed in a white jumper. She wasn’t inside any of the cars, so it’s possible she walked out of the hotel. “They’re company girls, not soldiers, for god’s sake.”

Murmuring under his breath about not having to deal with security or clients, the man flicks his wrist at her. 

The drive to the gallery is ridiculously short and they’re soon being pushed inside the slim, windowless building that it’s the gallery, walking yet again through some backdoor, the same one Nayeon pointed out on the floor plans that Jongdae got a hold of.

The job starts off easy, offering drinks around and keeping a pleasant face. Nayeon’s voice sounds like a record machine inside her head, reminding her of the rules.

 _You don’t smile, but you don’t look mean either._ _Stay away from the upper rooms, no one will notice if you avoid it if you move around. You can always get rid of a few glasses if you’re sneaky enough._

The few rounds are gone quickly, she makes her way back to the bar with her shoulders back, chest puffed out. There’s no way any of the people she walks past can imagine she’s recording everything going around her thanks to the little thing on her neck. It’s all good. It’s easy. She’s dreading the squeaky sound the high boots make once she’s away from the music, but she’s convinced this will work smoothly, just like Yixing planned.

She’s on her way back from the bar when a broad chest covered in a purple button up gets in her way.

“What’s the rush?”

She sighs, dropping the smize rule and rolling her eyes at Jongin, who looks too much like an asshole with the clothes he’s wearing and the smug expression he has on as he grabs a drink from her. One of his eyebrows darts up. She wonders if he’s even going to drink that. 

“I asked you a question.”

“No rush at all, sir” she says, pulling on a barely convincing pleasant face that looks more like a grimace if you’d ask Jongin, looking over his shoulder. “It’s just that I’m supposed to be wherever someone thirsty needs me, as you can see, so if you don’t ne–”

“Oh, I’m thirsty.” Jongin says, arm darting out and tipping the glass in his hand over some potted plant. Rina stares at it, blinking at the way the liquid has completely spilled. He has the nerve to look innocent when he puts the empty glass back. “Can I have another one?”

So the otherwise nice guy turns into a jerk as soon as he gets inside tight clothes and puts on some eyeliner, noted. It looks stupidly good on him, and it’s still not enough for him to get away with a stunt like that.

“Are you going to you spill it too?” she asks carefully, keeping her cool.

He quirks his eyebrow “Are you denying me of a drink?”

She hands it to him but doesn’t release tall sweaty glass immediately, much to his amusement. She imagines spitting on it first, and tries to walk around him only to be stopped by his hand against her stomach.

“I’ll still be thirsty after this one.” he drawls out, and she turns around after making sure no ones looking as she leans and glares at him, jaw clenched.

“Alright, what in the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” the silence from Baekhyun’s end is very telling, so she decides it’s up to her to put his ass in place.

“Trying to keep you busy from a certain someone that seems to think you’re _very_ interesting to look at,” he explains, dropping the asshole look to put his arm over her shoulder and take her into a casual stroll, leaning down to mutter in her ear “Sitting next to the booth, blue suit, with the dragon chain”

Her eyes graze a man that fits into the description. He holds her stare, elated that they finally crossed eyes. _Not him._

“Fuck.” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Exactly” he chuckles, frowning at the way her eyes dart around anxiously “Jongdae’s outside, you can–”

“No”

 _“Just pretend you’re feeling sick or something,”_ Jongdae says. _“We can’t take any risks right now, it’s better not to risk it”_

“I know him.” she blurts out “He knows me.”

“ _What?”_ Baekhyun asks. _“Who is he?”_

“Stupid Nam Joowon. Yeah, _that_ Joowon. He- uh… kind of hates my guts.”

“Why?” Jongin frowns.

“I gun whipped him, once, he can’t gotten over it.”

 _“Fitting”_ Sehun cuts in _“Well, you guys keep chit-chatting, I’m heading upstairs. This is boring.”_

_“Then more the reason, walk out.”_

“It’ll only be more suspicious.” _And_ she’s not scared of fucking Joowon, he’s probably just smug because he thinks he caught her red handed. The son of a bitch is going to run his mouth and _revel_ in it.

 _“Have it your way, then, but you’re staying with”_ Junmyeon says, no bullshit allowed. _“Nayeon says no one will approach you if you have company.”_

It’s all Jongin needs to hear to switch his hold on her to her waist, taking the tray from her hands and leaving it behind on a stool.

“This is unnecessary, I can handle myself just fine, you know?” she mutters, not resisting. He smells good, and Nayeon is right, now that she has company, less eyes fall on her.

“Mmm, sure you can, but you can’t go whipping or biting men in here without calling too much attention to yourself” he says, winking at a group of people on his way as they raise their glasses at him like they’re longtime friends. 

_The fuck?_ He’s a little too comfortable with this crowd.

He only catches her look of annoyance when he sits them down and she slides away from him, irked by the feel of the fabric of his pants against her bare legs “What? Am I that appalling?”

She can tell he’s more amused than insulted by the notion from the way he looks down at their legs and up at him.

“Your spell doesn’t work on me, I’m afraid.”

He laughs in disbelief “My spell?”

Rina keeps her head forward, turning around in order to get a good shot of the whole room. 

“Hana?”

When she turns around, Jongin’s perfectly confident facade has crumbled, eyes wide open and shoulders tensed. He looks up at the woman Rina’s been looking at through security cameras, now standing in front of them. She mirrors his shock.

“What are you– I haven’t seen you since…”

“The party, yes.” he says, standing up, Rina bites her lip to not laugh. 

“I thought you–”

Rina stands up, bowing her head at the woman and mouthing a mocking _good luck_ at Jongin and patting his chest.

“Eyebrows, where are you?”

 _“Fourth floor.”_ Sehun says, voice tight _“I’m starting to regret it, are you guys seeing this shit?”_

 _“Yep_ ” Baek voice is tight _“Should be enough to have the police come over, I mean, if_ that _doesn’t set the wheels in motion I don’t know what will”_

“What is it?” Rina asks, seeing Joowon stand up from the corner of her eye “Nevermind, I’ll see for myself.”

 _“Yeah, don’t come without having a drink first, trust me”_ Sehun says. 

She takes a huge elevator with a group of older men laughing loudly over something one of them shows them on his phone. The way one of them stare at her, up and down with the creepiest of smiles, makes her yearn for the weight of a gun, a knife, anything in her hands. She gets down as soon as they hit the second floor.

This is where the people at the top of the pyramid hang out, and it shows the second she lets her eyes focus past the red neon lights. The atmosphere is a lot heavier here, music lower, more people than she was expecting, crowding around women dancing on poles inside crystal boxes, making them look like caged up living statues.

 _“Guys.”_

_“What is it?”_

“This is crazy” Rina says, vaguely aware of the casual conversation Jongin is having downstairs with Hana. “How do they even get in there? Don’t they suffocate?”

 _“Something’s wrong.”_ Sehun says, but it isn’t until she hears him slur that she stops to pay attention to him _“Very, very wrong.”_

_“Why?”_

_“What is it?”_ Baekhyun asks. _“Sehun.”_

“What’s going on?” Rina asks, turning around and walking towards the elevator back again.

_“I don’t know, someone approached him, he’s moving. Sehun, can you hear us?”_

_“D- drink…”_ he trips over the word. _“S- something… hey–”_

 _“Sehun, did you take a drink from someone?”_ Junmyeon asks.

The alarms in her head go off. She clearly remembers Nayeon explaining that outsider guests brought in sometimes get requested from the upper floors, they’re more often than not drugged.

She hits the elevator button to no avail, only getting a strange stare from a man that looks too much like security. His mouth barely moves, she catches a glimpse of a thin cord behind his ear. 

She turns around, heading to the stairs, picking up the pace.

 _“I need you guys up there now.”_ Baekhyun says. _“It looks like he’s being carried inside a room–”_

“I’m in my way” she says. No need looking over her shoulder, she can _feel_ him behind her.

_“Now.”_

“I said I’m going, It’s a lot of stairs” she hisses, not unaware of the echo of steps, maybe one floor bellow her.

The fourth floor consists of smaller rooms with closed doors, fewer people hanging around the hallways, strange sounds seeping through concrete walls lit up by blue and pink lights. She almost trips on a couple of girls desperately trying to suck on each other’s faces, picking up on the fact that the girl is dressed just like her. When she stumbles over another man dressed in black fixing his suit, she stops and turns around as he calls up to her.

“You’re not allowed up here without a carer, ma'am.” he says.

 _Huh, carer?_ Someone definitely lured Sehun up here.

She turns at the corner and presses her back against the wall, looking at him walk over through the reflection of a crystal frame on the wall opposite, he leans over his shoulder to mumble something. She’s being flagged, and there’s no going back from there.

_“Rin, why are you not moving? where the hell are you?”_

Acting on pure instinct, she opens the fire extinguisher case next to he. Points it at the man as he turns and paints him white.

_“Oh my god–”_

He leans on the wall, coughing profusely, trying to rub his eyes while generously cursing at her. He’s not nearly affected enough for her. She lifts the nearly empty extinguisher and–

His body drops to the ground in a puddle of white dust.

_“What the fuck–”_

“You said now and he was going to send me down” she explains out of breath, finding a gun under the man’s jacket.

 _“Did you kill him?”_ Baekhyun asks, voice strained.

“He’s napping, he’s fine.” she says hurriedly, peering into a door just as a man walks out, seeing a girl hanging from the ceiling, room covered in velvet, ceiling to the floor, she’s wearing nothing but straps around her body.

 _“What happened? I’m almost there”_ Jongin says, out of breath _“Where are you?”_

“Fourth floor”

Another door. This time it’s another group of people in a compromising position around the room, the oozing smell of sex filling her pores, she holds her breath in disgust trying to get a familiar look of Sehun.

The fourth room consists of what looks like a huge transparent jacuzzi and an open view to the city. Walking in with the gun pressed against her she notes that there’s a camera on a tripod pointing to a group of people, both women and men, drinking, laughing and talking. Everything about the sounds they make and the way they move says they can’t be sober.

“Yixing needs to be here now, shit, he needed to be here an hour ago” she says out loud, not that anyone is in the right state to hear or notice there’s an armed intruder walking in the dark, away from the blue neon and grin lights that shift around. “I think they’re streaming this shit.”

_“He’s on his way, just find Sehun and get out of there.”_

_“Something’s going on”_ Jongin says _“Security’s going up, they’re clearing the third floor.”_

Two steps to the left and her heart drops. 

His shirt is ripped open, he’s drenched from head to toe, head hanging limply and resting against the crystal, legs twisting under the water. He can barely keep his eyes open, but it’s clear he’s trying to move away from the several people touching him, including a girl’s hands inside his pants as another man, moves his head so that he’s facing the camera, caressing his cheekbones.

Screams fill the room as the shot rings through the room, the bullet hitting the side of the jacuzzi and breaking it, spilling water all over the floor.

 _“That was you?”_ Jongin must be near. Good. That’s good.

“Yes, please hurry up.” she says, walking past the screaming people trying to exit the room first. 

Sehun has lost balance, fallen inside the jacuzzi, she struggles to pull him out by the neck of his shirt but eventually manages. He’s coughing out water.

“Hey.” She says, flinching when he darts his arm out and almost hits her face “It’s me, it’s Rina, calm down.”

She tries to put her arm under his shoulders, but he’s still struggling, either from almost drowning or whatever drug they gave him.

“Don’t touch me.” he slurs repetitively “Don’t touch me.”

She grabs his face. He’s sickly pale, his lips are tinted purple.

“Hey”

She stands up as soon as Jongin appears, his own gun out now. “Shit. Sehun, is he unconscious?” he asks hurriedly, blanching when he takes a close look at him “Sehun, do you hear me?”

"We need to get him out.” she tells him. “He’s not ok.”

He easily pulls him out, throwing him over his shoulder. Rina helps pulling his pants up, starting to feel sick herself. 

This was a bad idea.

“Come on, we need to get out before the cops are here and he needs a doctor.”

The elevators are a no no, they reach the third floor when they realize the chaos has moved to the rest of the building, word of fired shots spreading quickly. They’re about to make a turn when she sees taller, buff men walking in the opposite direction, towards them, and pushes Jongin back.

"Go the other way, there should be another set of stairs on the other side.”

“And you?” Jongin asks, fixing his grip on Sehun.

“I’ll see you down there.” she says. His lips set on a stiff line and finally he nods at her.

 _“Yixing’s in with back up, just hold on a little.”_ Baekhyun says.

She hides behind one open wall leading into two rooms opposite of each other, hearing their steps come closer. Aware of her heartbeat, she points and shoots the moment they walk past her. Hits a hip, someone less to worry about. The other turns around, shoots in her direction, hitting the concrete wall next to her when she folds her knees.

_“What was that?”_

_So much for her recovered ear._

There’s another shot. It’s not her, and it’s not the man seconds from blowing her brains out either. Next thing she knows he’s on the ground, too.

“Hands up! Don’t move!”

She looks at the ceiling and breathes. Never having felt so relieved at the presence of the police.

Slipping past the cop as he cuffs the man, she slides across the wall and follows Jongin’s direction.

_“Rina, where are you?”_

“Going down.”

 _“We’re outside”_ Jongin says. _“We’re taking Sehun to the hospital.”_

“Don’t wait for me, then” she says, out of breath, running down the stairs. “Yixing’s here, go, it’s fine, I’ll meet him downstairs”

_“Be careful.”_

The lower she gets the louder the echo of cops giving orders and people screaming gets. Her legs burn, hand sweaty against the gun as she hits the lower floor.

“ _Rin, at this point it’s probably for the best that you drop the gun and let them take you.”_ Junmyeon says. “ _Yixing will get you off the moment everything clears out.”_

Someone pushes her when she steps out into the floor, a woman, running past her, inside the kitchen. The front entrance is completely surrounded, people in uniforms coming from every corner, escorting people out and a flash of blue and red hits her face, blinding her now that she’s grown used to the darkness of emergency lighting.

_“Hey, are you listening?”_

Red and blue lights. She breathes out, stumbling back until she finds another hallway.

“Ma'am, stop right there–”

_“Did she get hit?”_

_Bang._

A shoulder. Shit. He’s not going to die from it, or is he? Is it her or his left?

She moves to the side as the cop falls against the wall, barely registering his moan of pain with her good ear.

“ _What are you–”_

Shut up. _Shut up_. **_Shut up_**. 

She rips off the earpiece, throws it against the wall. She feels it coming, at waves at first, then all at once, the choking sensation, the itching moving up her arms. Red and blue, even when she runs through the backdoor, it’s everywhere.

This is what she’s the best at.

Running.

**01:45 am**

Three blocks away from the gallery. That’s where he finds her.

Leaning against the side of a pawn shop, behind some trash containers, gun in her hands hanging limply between her crouched legs like it’s the one thing keeping her tied to gravity. Parking the car in a hasty turn of the wheel, he steps out ignoring the driver that blares his horn as he drives past.

“Rina?”

Her head snaps to the side. She flinches, clumsily moves further inside the darkness of the alley. She stumbles, her ankle bends at an ugly angle, that’s when his hands reach out to keep her balanced.

“Are you hurt?”

There’s no answer, no sight of blood or wounds other than a scraped chin and some blood mixed gravel on her knees. Another police car drives past and he presses them against the wall, cursing under his breath. From the corner of his eye he picks up on way she shuts her eyes tightly and whimpers, almost like she’s waiting to be struck.

Her breathing is uneven, he can see the way her chest heaves at a fast pace, pumping air in an out, she gasps, grabs her throat as one hand makes a fist over his shirt.

“Breathe.” he tells her, taking the gun from her clammy hands. “Rina, breathe. We have to get in the car and go before someone comes and–”

“Can’t” she gasps

“Yes, you can.” Hes holds himself from punching the wall because of how frustrating this is. “I know you do. The car is right there, we just have to get there and then I’ll take us home, but I need you to _breathe_ first.”

“Home.” she repeats, wavering.

“Yes, home. Can you walk?” he moves back, giving her some space, she takes the opportunity to step back.

“I want to stay here.” she says, frantically shaking her head, and he sees it, the fresh trail of tears marking her face, new ones pooling at the corners of her eyes “Until– I– they’re everywhere– fuck. Fuck. They’re everywhere and I can’t– I can’t go back there…”

It clicks, where this is all coming from.

“I shot him”

The realization rips through him and he needs a second or two to put himself together. The fuckedupness of it all, he curses the guys for leaving her behind, he curses Junmyeon for refusing to listen to him when he told him not to bring her in.

“Listen to me. Hey. Hey.” he grabs her face, probably the worst thing to do to someone going through an attack. He just needs to make sure she’s listening, looking straight at him so that she sees he means it. “It’s not gonna happen. You’re not going anywhere. We just got you back, I promise I won’t let it happen, ok? Say it.”

She hesitates, lower lip trembling between his thumbs, nostrils flaring.

“Please say it, Rina.”

“Ok” she breathes out, face squished between his hands. He gives her a firm nod, swiping his fingers across her cheeks before backing away. “Ok.”

He manages to get her inside the passenger seat. It’s a mystery how she got so far from the club, but judging from the scrapes on her knees, she definitely tried to run.

She slowly goes back to herself on the drive home, the nails she buries into her thighs have left imprints when her hands release their tension, the sweat in her face dries, leaves darkened strands of hair stuck against the sides of her face and cracked lips. Soon she’s deep in slumber, head resting on the window, sinking in the seat like a doll that ran out of batteries.

He thinks it over twice before waking her up when he parks next to Chanyeol’s car at home, staring at her for a moment before walking out the car. Surprisingly, she doesn’t wake up as he pulls her from the seat, closing the door with his knee and carrying her inside.

Kato is euphoric to greet people back home, trying to jump to bite her hair.

Baekhyun and Jongdae share a look of worry when they meet him in the living room.

“What happened? Did she–”

“She’s fine,” Minseok says, letting her down on the couch. “I found her around the area. How’s the kid?”

“He’s stable now. They haven’t said if they’re letting him off tonight, but I think it’s better if he stays until the morning, just in case” Baekhyun nods, sitting next to Rina’s feet and zipping off her shoes, gasping at Kato as he licks away the blood and dirt from Rina’s limp hand hanging from the edge of the couch. “Kato! What’s wrong with you? Manners. We don’t lick people without their permission.”

Jongdae leans in and puts her hand over her forehead. “Whatever they gave to him, it was some hardcore shit, Jongin says the doctor told them if they didn’t get him to–”

Yixing’s voice from the station makes Baekhyun jump over the couch, pulling his sweatpants up.

“I’ll ask you again, what happened?” Jongade says, arms crossed. “And don’t say nothing, I know you better than that.”

Minseok furrows his brow. “Why does it sound like you think I _did_ something to her?”

“I don’t. But she was crying and you have a look in your eye.” he says. “ _And_ the last time the two of you were alone, something happened too. I don’t know what, but something tells me it has something to do with the threats she mentioned the other day, she was looking at you, wasn’t she?”

“I found her driving around the area, she was panicking in the middle of some alley, that’s what happened.” Minseok gru “All I did that night was set things straight to her. Someone had to, and you all refused to do it yourselves”

She stirs, turning around and pressing her face against the back cushions, bare arms pressed between them and her body. Jongdae sighs, grabbing one blanket folded over the back of the couch and setting it over her. Minseok watches the action in silence.

“I’m just trying to understand why you’re acting like this but I can’t, man.”

“And I don’t understand why you all kept her around after we found Im Nayeon either, but I let it pass,” Minseok says. “You saw that too. This isn’t how we do things. We have enough shit to deal with for us to try and take on another burden.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

“Anything but keep this up,” he says. “Junmyeon’s a lost cause but I was hoping that you’d see it for what it is, involving her is more of a problem for us than an advantage at this point.”

He turns around, makes his way up the stairs as Jongdae is left to wipe the tiredness from his face. He didn’t mean to end up in this position, in the middle, but somehow he feels like that’s right where he is right now. Minseok stops in his tracks, suddenly remembering something.

“She said it herself, she was handling things just fine without our help.”

Jongdae shakes his head, looks at the ceiling and drops his arms “Only reason she made it that night is because Chanyeol and Jongin were there, you do know that, right?”

“Oh, I do,” Minseok lifts his eyebrows. “You try to make _her_ see that.”

He groans, lets his body drop at the end of her feet where Baekhyun once sat, staring at her for a minute or two before pinching her ankle. Her body jerks.

“You’re not slick,” he says, laughing when she turns around and kicks his knee. “How much of that did you hear?”

She sits up, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. He studies her up close, she smiles cryptically, but the corner of her eyes as she yawns tells another story.

“So, all of it.” he sighs.

“Enough of it.” she nods, and he opens his mouth but she’s quicker “Is this where you say he doesn’t mean it?”

“If it helps, I know for a fact he doesn’t, at least not all of it.”

“Don’t play middle man, Dae.” she says, curling into the couch and sighing. “You don’t have to soften anything for me. I prefer hard truths, they’re more useful at the end of things.”

“Doesn’t make it any less rude to listen to private conversations.”

“Feels shitty, doesn’t it?”

He nods, accepting the jab.

“You know this would’ve been a lot easier if you’d called, right? Hell, an email would’ve sufficed. Smoke signal. We could’ve helped you.”

“I got help, trust me.” she stands up. “It took a while after I got out, but I managed.”

“Still, it would’ve been nice to have you around.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden.” she says mid-stretch, walking past him with a smirk and he stands up, grabbing her wrist to stop her.

“You wouldn’t have been,” he assures, getting serious “You weren’t back then, and you’re not one now. Using shitty humor to cope isn’t a good look on you, you know?”

She rolls her eyes, bringing one hand up to tap against the jaw.

“Worry isn’t on you either,” she says, using her fingers to soothe the lines on his furrowed brow, he fights it at first but eventually smiles at her. “Leave that to Junmyeon, that’s more his thing”

His smile fades as he looks over her shoulder, and she turns to find the only person who could be standing over there right now. Minseok, changed into comfortable clothes, standing by the end of the stairs, a blank expression hardening his features, staring back at her as she lowers her hand. Her smile drops. 

“Feeling better?" 

Jongdae swears the way her upper lip moves up is almost a snarl, but her voice is even more vicious.

” _Lovely_.“

She gives Jongdae a last look, slipping past him in the direction of the station, where Baekhyun is helping Yixing keep track of the people who managed to escape the raid.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following information is classified:  
> T O P S E C R E T
> 
> Security Clearance Level 6

**_102010 - 2:27 am_ **

_"You sure your dad's not coming back tonight?"_

_"Dude, she already said he's not like... six times, do you have hearing loss or are you just a pussy?"_

_Rina looks over her shoulder in time to catch Yifan burn holes in the back of Minhee's beanie covered head. Having to listen to his lectures many times before, it's_ thrilling _to see her best friend give him some attitude._

_Her hand is soft and warm when she pulls her into a sprint across the street, sharing smiles just meant for the two of them._

_It's way past 2 am, the streets hold the kind of darkness and silence that would usually asking for danger, but they make a big group like this and there's nothing to make her look over her shoulder. Everything is in its right place._

_Everyone's in their own level of buzzed, Baekhyun's limp on Chanyeol's back,_ _Jongdae has lost any sense of shyness that he usually gets when Minseok brings his girlfriend around, loudly complaining about Chanyeol cockblocking him. Yixing, who Yifan recently introduced has grown a lot more chummy around them, enough to start blabbering about late capitalism conspiracy theories that only Rina pays attention to._

_He’s a nice guy, makes it easy to like him._

_And then there's Yuna. Big eyes, thin legs and flawless skin Yuna, who doesn't drink or smoke and who Rina is barely aware of walks at the back, giggling at whatever story's Minseok's been breathing against her ear, the couple remain in a whole world of their own, they’ve been stuck there for a month._

_A few months past sixteen has turned things around for her. She refuses to succumb to the... dislike towards another girl just because she's been swapping saliva with the guy that has been her uninterrupted crush since she was a kid. She's been slowly coarcing the feeling out of her. Minhee and Kyungsoo are the living proof that getting greedy with friendships is risky, and it’s not like Minseok thinks of her like that anyway._

_These days she’s getting familiar with partying, skipping class, alcohol, smoking, handsy boys and all of those things she's been warned about, enough to decide which kind of destructive habit she's alright without and where she's willing to test her limits. Ceirtanly not boys, she’s decided she can live without them. She prefers it that way._

_Friday nights that end up unplanned like this are a favorite: pre-drinking and bowling at the arcade thanks to the trusty spare key around her neck, scattering all over some party and then leaving when some assholes start a fight at Jinyoung's backyard and pull out a knifes and broken bottles._

_That's when Yifan called it quits. Rich kids like Jinyoung have no fear of dealing with cops when their parents have the money to get them out with a flick of their wrists. Minseok and Yifan have a certain alertness when it comes to red and blue lights, avoid them like water and oil. Rina wonders how long she'll be able to pretend she doesn't know the reason behind it._

_After a while of walking nowhere in the middle of the night, her place became the next and final stop. One thing they knew was that it was too early to go home. Baekhyun and Jongdae got his hands on some fancy bottles from Jinyoung's kitchen._

_So here she is, leading the group up the stairs to her floor, keys in her fist. Poor Chanyeol begs them to keep it quiet before his mother wakes up and sends them all home, forgetting they have a Jongdae in their group. It’s a good thing that Baekhyun is knocked out._

_Her dad's old leather jacket is heavy and worm on her shoulders, her buzzing phone is pressed tight against her hip under the waistband of a pair of thick burgundy jeans, visible thanks to the cropped top Minhee convinced her to put on._

_Who she's not expecting to see sitting by her doorstep, phone in hand, is a disheveled Kim Junmyeon._

_"What are you doing here?" It comes out a little harsher than intended. The lingering alcohol in her veins showing through glassy eyes, cold wind kissed flushed cheeks._

_The last time she saw him it was barely starting to get chilly at nights, trying -and failing- to convince him that they should figure out what it is their parents are up to. Junmyeon kept saying she was seeing things where she shouldn't. Rina didn't take it well and called him out for living his life inside a little privileged bubble, too afraid to move and risk it to burst and lose its comfort._

_"That's him!" Chanyeol calls out, forgetting about his sleeping mother behind the door across the hallway. "That's lover boy I've been telling you about, it's him. Ha! I knew it"_

_If Junmyeon could fold himself in half under the many unknown interested eyes that are now on him he would. She rolls hers eyes, dropping Minhee's hand._

_Chanyeol he saw her stepping out of his car one afternoon and is now convinced that the two are a thing. Her mouth's too dry to care to explain that she's the girl Junmyeon likes to buy books and food and pick up from school to feel better for himself, because he has the money to do so and based on her suspicions, his lack of genuine friends or some too-early mid-life crisis._

_He's kind of a rich loser with no one to talk heart to heart to._

_"You weren't picking up." Junmyeon explains, standing up and shaking the dust from his grey sweats, ignoring the accusation._

_"Hi, Junmyeon," Minhee says, entertained by the older guy looking so out of it._

_"I was out" Rina states the obvious._

_"Hey, Minhee." he says, turning to her as she moves past him to open the door, eyes going wide as he picks up something on her "Are you-- are you drunk?"_

_"Not yet" she chuckles, opening the door and telling the group to get inside with a tilt of her head. Yifan gives her_ the eyebrow _, meaning she'll be questioned later as he walks sideways past her, acting like the doorway's not big enough for him._

_"Isn't he a little too old? Should we be ok with this?" Jongdae mumbles, eyeing Junmyeon up and down, taking off his shoes._

_"Don't be mean." Yuna scolds them softly, holding onto Minseok's shoulder as she slips off her shoes._

_"Fuck off," Rina tells him, arm keeping the door wide open, resting her head back against it "Why do I even hang out with you jerks?"_

_"Because you like to brag to your dumb friends about hanging out with the older guys, duh," Chanyeol answers from inside, groaning and rolling his shoulders as he finally sets Baekhyun's lazy ass on the couch._

_"Uh," Junmyeon mumbles, getting her attention back, scratching his neck and shaking his car keys "Well, I guess I'll get going."_

_"Rina, where are your manners?" Jongdae asks in a low voice, propping his arm against the door behind her, shaking his head "Aren't you gonna invite him in and properly introduce him to us? He should stay and have some drinks with us."_

_"Yeah, we're just joking, dude," Chanyeol says from inside, muttering something after that makes Minhee let out a loud laugh for some reason._

_Junmyeon looks at her, searching for her approval, and maybe, maybe Rina feels kinda bad for being so cold to him when he looks like he’s the youngest of the two, standing outside in the clothes he sleeps in._

_"If he wants to deal with your annoying asses," she says. "sure. I don't even think he drinks."_

_"He has to drink, right?" Jongdae shrugs. "If he doesn't like alcohol, we'll just make him a milkshake or something."_

  


**082618 - 09:43**

**Present Day**

Morning comes, she's up before the clock hits ten am, eyes, feet and knees swollen, the latex skirt and top forgotten on the floor right where she peeled them from her tired body hours ago.

She remembers Sehun, running, not wanting to spend another second at the boys’ place and Jongdae offering to give her a ride home instead of letting her call an uber.

It takes her by surprise when she hears knuckles hitting hard against the door followed by her name being playfully chanted from the hallway. There she finds them lined up, Jongdae and Jongin hanging from Kyungsoo's shoulder, the three set on helping her get her trashed apartment back in place.

They don’t take no for an answer. She’s demanding to know how many hours of sleep they got as Jongin slips past her, stretching his arms in the air like he’s already made himself at home.

Installing the new door leaning on the doorframe becomes Jongdae and Jongin’s main mission, Kyungsoo stands awkwardly for a moment before he starts helping her clean around, picking up pieces of glass with a small broom, while she wipes the dust collected on her kitchen from the weeks she spent at their place. 

Jongade whines about missing screws. Jongin marvels at the efficiency of her magnetic screwdrivers.

Coming back from the convenience store she halts in the middle of her kitchen, seeing Kyungsoo try to place a globe lamp on top of her bookcase. Her mind glitches with the possibility of him somehow fixing it so quickly, then she catches on how the colors lack the yellowish opacity her old one had: it's a brand new one.

"Where’d you find that?"

A small laugh bubbles in her throat at how he jumps in surprise, making a funny cartoony noise, almost dropping the lamp but securing it with both raised hands. He clears his throat and wipes his hands against the sides of his shirt before answering.

"It's probably not as big as the one you had, and it's not crystal either but uh--"

"How much was it?" she asks, moving to open her purse, knowing she doesn't have enough cash to possibly pay him right now, just out of mere instinct.

He's full of nos and frowns, stepping back from her, refusing to even answer as she asks again.

"C’mon, Kyungsoo, I can't let you get this for me." she insists.

"And I can't let you pay me for it." he says back, with a little bit more attitude. "Just-- it looks empty without it, just keep it... please."

He's right, the bookcase did look empty, even more so with her missing books, all ripped to pieces by the men that crashed her place looking for her, currently in a trash bag under her kitchen counter. A tragedy.

"Thank you." she says after a while "You didn't have to, I’ll find a way to pay back, thank you."

He looks taken aback, not a smile but neither a frown on his face or the usual indifference she's been getting. If anything, she recognizes the signs that he's growing uncomfortable, moving his lips like his nose itches and avoiding her eyes. The question gets bigger inside her mouth.

_Will we ever go back to how we were around each other?_

"Hey, that nosy neighbor of yours brought a package while you were gone, said she got it a few days ago or something like that" Jongdae says out of nowhere, making her turn her back to Kyungsoo, moving to examine the white box on her kitchen counter. “She’s a talker, huh? I could barely keep up with her, _me_ ”

One look at the missing sender info and she's already dreading the contents, cutting through the tape and pulling a smaller package from inside the fluffy plastic thingies

"It’s a chessboard." Jongin says excitedly like a kid on Christmas.

Underneath, there's a thinner box, the inside encasing the pieces in perfect order in black packaging foam. They're silver and gold, heavy in her hand when she picks one knight, taken aback by how cold to the touch it feels. Jongdae lets out a slow whistle, eyebrow raised.

"Didn't know you had expensive taste."

"I didn't order this" they pick up on her somber voice, the way her eyes glaze over the king piece with evident animosity.

"I think I saw a card in there."

She saw it before Jongin pointed it out, a white A5 sheet of paper tucked inside, she makes sure to keep her expression clean, devoid of any kind of emotion, as she puts the piece back in place and closes the box carefully.

"You're not gonna read it." Though worded like an affirmation, Kyungsoo's tone flicks into a half question. "Don't you want to know who sent it?"

"I already know who sent it."

Then, she turns around to turn the stove on, pulling out her old Moka pot, four unmatching mugs from the top cabinet. She’s pouring the dark liquid like she’s been looking for some clearance since she opened her eyes, it comes to her: she needs to get back to normal.

“Here, it doesn’t taste like the one from your bougie coffee machine but it’s what I have, and don't say no, I can tell you guys need it"

"Coffee is coffee” She doesn’t know what to make of Jongin’s amused stare as he takes a yellow mug from her hand and a wrapped up egg sandwich she bought from the restaurant down the block “we weren't going to say no, Rina"

She pretends not to feel Kyungsoo's lingering stare as she looks over her shoulder. "Good, I won't have to force feed you." 

They guys leave before the clock hits 1 pm.

There’s still plenty to do, vacuuming floors, cleaning up her room, the fridge, coming to terms with the fact that there's no going back for her poor plants she completely forgot about, printing a picture of the late Nosferatu and getting some candles in his memory.

The next day the news about the police raiding the gallery start to spread out. They're only putting it out as a drug and prostitution thing, which is only a fragment of the truth.

Knowing how things work with the official side of the law, it's bound to be a long process for any kind of justice to be made, and it's the smarter choice to not let everything out at once to the media for the sake of the investigation. There's still a long list of girls missing, people that bailed out during the night despite Yixing's efforts, everything is pretty much all over the place, like havoc after a crash.

There’s a thing with crashes, no one ever knows what happened during the exact moment of collision.

She imagines by now Nayeon should be reunited with Haneul, a short moment of happiness before she has to face a court as a key witness.

This is where she told herself she'd step off and that's what she plans on doing. Yixing, Junmyeon and the rest can handle things now like they wanted to from the beginning. They have the influence, the contacts and the resources to do so.

Life goes on.

Monday. She's in the last place she'd ever thought she'd willingly go to during summer break. Lady's Room, more specifically the office, or what she likes to call it, Joohyun's iron throne. The girls are all out of town, Wendy in Japan visiting her cousin and Seulgi taking her much needed break. She's all on her own now. Up to the morning to late at night when it's time to close the place.

She's never been exactly sure what part she's supposed to play here, she knows she helped out starting it. Maybe it’s the fact that the money was actually Joohyun's father’s, a ridiculous sum he put in her account for _saving his girl's life_ after she helped kicking her scumbag ex-boyfriend out of her life.

Here she is, trying to catch up with light bills, scrolling through the week's schedule and looking for a way to not handle things and potentially ruin something until one of the girls come back, looking out the mirrored window as the girls work the appointments for the day with ease.

Earlier this morning of them came up to the office to let her know the bleach they used is to be discontinued by the brand and the supplier came to offer other options.

_"We'll switch to Ultra."_ Wendy instructs _"Tell Heejin, she'll handle the supplier, she's done it before."_

"Are you suggesting I can't deal with suppliers? Is that it? And from what I see here, this Ultra one is overpriced."

_"Overpriced, yes,"_ Wendy says. _"But it doesn't burn like satan's himself licked your scalp, unlike the others, and it doesn't smell as much either. Just do as I say, it'll be fine, they're not discontinuing right away so by the time anything comes up we'll be back."_

"I feel... a little useless, but alright, boss."

_"You facetimed us over a bleach brand."_ Joohyun deadpans.

"Seulgi's the one who knows about these things, ok? And I wanted to know how you were all doing, I see some tanning already."

_"Ugh-- don't start with me,"_ Wendy says. _"I'm fighting off the urge to peel my skin off, you have no idea"_

"Poor you, it must be so hard being out in the sun, sipping on your coconut water, you're so brave."

Joohun makes a sound of indignation _"I told you to come with me and you blew me off."_

"It's a family vacation for a reason and I'm not a Bae, it would've been uncomfortable being there with all of your aunts asking you if you swing the other way"

_"Please, her dad loves you, he wouldn’t mind marrying you two"_ Wendy snorts.

"And! Seulgi's finally getting some rest because I bullied her into letting me cover for her"

_"By the way, what's up with you? You avoid having to cover on your own like the plague."_

"I figured that since I was emotionally blackmailed into being part of this business I could play the part for a few days."

_"Hmm"_

_"You believe that?"_

_"I call bullshit."_

She switches over to text Yerim back. She'll be back in town in two days, finally, and wants to meet up, lots of catching up to do, from what she’s seen on her IG page.

_"And now she's ignoring us."_

"I'm leaving you two," she says "6:00 pm is here, gotta go greet the clients."

_"Put on your businesswoman smile_."

"I'll try, take care, love you."

_"Love you."_

_"Yeah, me too. Try not to scare people away."_

It's not as hard as she acts like it is. She's back inside the office after the group of girls is all seated. Another half is to come as soon as they're done, and it's most likely they'll stay past midnight. She doesn't mind staying late, ordering food, sharing buzzfeed tests results with Yerim and ordering school supplies online she doesn't need.

Her phone does it's usual Ding! that means she just got a text, and she pauses the ongoing babycare game to answer, not expecting at all to see the name on top of the notification.

> **KJM**
> 
> _> > [5:27 pm] Hey. Think we can meet?_

She chews on her lip, staring at the contact name and the signature words under that mean he's online.

> _< < [5:33 pm] _i'm not sure tbh, when?
> 
> _> > [5:34 pm] Tomorrow._
> 
> _> > [5:34 pm] It's important._
> 
> _> > [5:35 pm] You disappeared on us the other night lol._
> 
> _< <_ _[5:40 pm]_ as we agreed?
> 
> _> > [5:42 pm] Cute how you think you're getting rid of us that easily._
> 
> _< <_ _[5:42 pm]_ oh
> 
> _< <_ _[5:43 pm]_ so it's not the other way?

Three dots bounce on the screen. He’s typing an essay. She snorts.

> _< <_ _[5:44 pm]_ I Am Kidding
> 
> _< <_ _[5:44 pm]_ time and place?
> 
> _> > [5:46 pm] I'll text you the address._

  


**082818 -** **21:58**

Nothing moves people like memorial day. Adults, kids, running around, others quiet, attached to their parent's legs. Most of them were too young or yet to be born when the attack happened, but they've been raised to understand the importance of paying tribute to the lost ones. The kind of softened, watered-down explanation of the world people give to their kids.

As a kid, she couldn't get it through her head that anyone would do such harm willingly. Terrorism made as much sense as numbers and letters being mixed together. 

She completely forgot about how full the park gets on this day, too entranced on her own at home since the salon was closed for obvious reasons. She never replied to Junmyeon after he sent her the address and the time, didn't question the reason for the meetup, and now around all of these people, she starts to feel strange about why he'd choose this particular day and place.

There has to be a reason behind it.

Meeting in plain sight like this, around so many people, there’s a motive she’s yet to uncover. Junmyeon, with his double identity, doesn't have a reason to not want to be seen, not from what she's picked up on, so why?

She decides to stop when she gets to the center of the park, he can call if he wants to find her. There’s a crowd around the main sculpture, putting down candles, flowers, frames with pictures, offerings. There are some people casually tearing up, most of them look up at the sculpture with demure faces.

She used to be terrified of it when her father brought her. Thick wires of steel, twisted to create the contours of what from a distance looks like a triangle drawn by a right-handed person with their left one, meant to be an abstract pair of hands holding each other. Lit up with different colors reflecting on it, towards the sky, surrounded with flowers and kids crouching down to put the stuff their parents hand them, it's a little gentler on the eye.

Or maybe it’s her eye that got used to less gentle things.

She walks away when they start singing, feeling like she's intruding a private moment. She can't be the only one that feels uncomfortable, there's a reason why some people stay away too, sitting down on the grass, closer to the river, up on the small hills that make the wind a little less harsh, just looking from afar.

That's where she finds them. For some reason Junmyeon brought Baekhyun along, that’s how she notices the. The platinum hair gives him away.

"Gentlemen."

"I was just about to call you," Junmyeon says, pocketing his phone, pouting at her in mild surprise, moving to the side.

He looks just like a regular guy with a white cap casting a shadow over half of his plump shiny face, a pair of washed-out jeans and a grey shirt with long sleeves pulled up to his elbows, on his right wrist a watch that's worth a lot of zeroes.

She clicks her tongue and he leans back in surprise when she pulls off his cap.

"You're not supposed to be wearing this." His mouth moves in strange shapes like he wants to retaliate, but he gives up and nods. He's embarrassed.

The ground looks soft and inviting, like it'd be refreshing to sit or lay on it, she can almost feel how good it'd be to walk barefoot on the grass.

"Let's sit" she looks up at the two, staring back at her in surprise "What? It's just grass. I can tell this won't be quick, so..."

"You want to sit-- here?" Junmyeon asks, Baekhyun chimes in, with his fingers touching her upper arm before she can properly roll her eyes at him.

"Why don't we go for a walk?"

Walking it is, in the opposite way of the sculpture. The park is huge, extends from one bridge past the next one, like a garden between the river and the taller, busier area of the city, and it’s still not enough to keep the air clean.

"How you've been?" Junmyeon asks, walking from side to side with his hands splayed out inside his jeans pockets. He's trying hard to keep up his casual act for someone who looked constipated from the moment she saw the two at a distance.

Why here? Why now?

"Good, how's eyebrows doing?"

He's fine, after having his stomach pumped and throwing up enough to sound like Darth Vader for a whole day. He recovered quickly, brushing away their attempts at babying him, something that creeped them all out since it is, apparently, very much against his character. Oh, and he has been asking about her a lot.

"That's suspicious, you sure he's fine? Maybe Jongin hit his head against something while he was carrying him and he's just keeping quiet." She chuckles.

"I think they gave us a fake one at the hospital and kept the real one" Baekhyun says, dead serious. "Or maybe they switched his brain." Junmyeon stiffles a laugh.

"Believe it or not, I think he wants to say thank you."

She smacks her lips "To me? What for?"

"You stayed behind so Jongin could get him out, a lot could've gone wrong."

She's not sure it's right to say a lot didn't go wrong. Shooting that cop out of impulse was bad enough. Embarrassing herself in front of Minseok still made her whole body... cringe, but she was not thinking about it right now, or the fact that he obviously told them _something_ about it because no one’s asked about her sudden exit from the building.

Avoiding the subject, she turns to Baek, noticing the pull of skin on his jaw and the way his fingers are obnoxiously ripping the velcro band on Junmyeon's cap over and over, making a crunchy noise.

"What’s up with _you,_ huh?" she snorts, reaching over to snatch his sunglasses. "What's got you so quiet?"

There’s not even a hint of a smile on him, licking his lips and just... staring ahead as he keeps walking. Junmyeon doesn't react to her question when she looks to him for an explanation, or anything really, to soothe her growing discomfort.

Something’s wrong here.

"Did something happen? are Nayeon and--"

"They’re fine" Junmyeon says quickly. "We're taking care of it, that's not why I texted you."

"Ok..."

"I mean, it does relate to it, but it's not precisely why. God-- this is hard. Baekhyun, to be fair, you said you'd do the talking"

Junmyeon is mortified and she's getting worried, nails itching to be bitten, stomach fluttering with the wrong kind of butterflies, no-- not butterflies, more like tiny sized demons.

"We wanted to talk to you." Baekhyun starts, fixing his throat. "About something that we believe you have a right to know about."

There's a pause when a group of four guys that take up too much space on the sidewalk come across them, and Junmyeon gives them a careful side-eye. He waits for the sound of their voices to die down, getting closer to her to make sure she looks at him.

"This is the thing I told you about at the wedding."

All she can do is nod until they get to the point.

"Remember what you said to me, that time I went to visit you at Hwasong?" Baekhyun asks. She frowns, there were a lot of things she said to him during those months, even if she was allowed about two hours of visits per week only, and to be honest, her mind wasn’t in the best of places, withdrawals and all "When we found the codes your father had on his computer but I couldn't figure it out no matter how hard I tried, you told me to find a way in, you said to find a back door."

"Yeah, sure, of course, Yixing told me you weren’t giving up yet."

It isn't something that she particularly thought so much about, sure, but that didn't mean she forgot about it so easily. Her father left a lot behind after his death; for a bunch of kids at school he left weeks without their maths classes, for her a disgusting amount of money and the certainty that his death was planned, for Baekhyun, hidden in some folder on the arcade desktop, some weird computer program he spent months rambling about.

Chanyeol and him were obsessed.

"I tried. Really tried for a long time, but the thing is it didn't matter how hard I did, because I was just looking at a fraction of it all..." he struggles, looking around, eyes trained on the extension of the river "What I'm saying is I couldn't do it until we found the rest."

"The rest" she repeats, emotionless.

"Yes, that’s how it started to make sense— like a puzzle, when we found all the pieces. You see... we found a backdoor, but this... thing on the other side wasn't anything, and I mean anything we could've expected."

"You're freaking me out." She huffs.

"It's just... you need to have an open mind for this..."

"This is my father's work you're talking about" she stops, lowering her voice "And you’re making it sound fucking shady"

"He didn't exactly... do it," Junmyeon says, from where the two have stopped, a few steps past her. "He created it. I think that's the right word to use in this situation."

"That's not any better--"

"It's a system." Baekhyun interrupts, putting out his hands in front of her, bringing his voice up to interrupt her before lowering it "A very, very sophisticated system. Fuck-- this is gonna sound crazy, it kind of was back then, but maybe you've heard of... artificial intelligence?"

She doesn't know how long she just stares at them, but he slowly leans his head down like he's waiting for her to say something.

"Yes I have heard of it, Baekhyun, I'm familiar with pop culture, I saw Ghost in the Shell." she deadpans.

"That's... not precisely what--" Baekhyun stops, shaking his head and showing his palms "Think of it like this: bad things happen every day, right? People get in bad situations, they commit crimes, huge acts like terrorism, but also... smaller ones, violent crimes, domestic violence, your everyday thing. Then there are victims, human casualties. Imagine if you had the power to be able to know, beforehand, that these bad things will happen."

"Like a premonition."

"No!" he says immediately "Not like a hunch. I'm talking factual, numbers, algorithms, systematic data that can pinpoint exactly when and where something bad will happen. It gives you the possibility of stopping it, of intervening, of saving lives"

"That’s impossible," she says, scratching the side of her nose and crossing her arms.

"Is it, Rina?" the way Junmyeon's left eyebrow ticks up irks her.

"Because people are unpredictable," she says. "What you're telling me is, my father, somehow, managed to come up with some superior software advanced enough to predict crimes? People aren't written in code. You can't translate us to numbers because we're way too complex for that."

"What if I told you it's possible?" Baekhyun dares, chin raised up, eyes shiny, tongue pressed against his cheek. She doesn't need any more confirmation that he's dead serious, as scarily serious as Byun Baekhyun can be about any subject.

"I'd ask how" she says, softly.

"I just told you, Artificial Intelligence"

"And I heard you, but it still means nothing to me" she drawls out slowly, starting to lose her patience.

"You were there, that night at the wings hotel because you _knew_ Haneul was going to try to do something stupid. By coincidence, you crossed paths with Sehun. You just didn't know he was there for the exact same reason."

"Sent by you."

"Yes" Junmyeon agrees, intervening "Now, how did you know? You saw signs. Connected dots. How did _we_ know? Same way we knew something would happen to you the night you got shot."

"Okay but how?" she presses. 

They're answering but not answering. She needs some clarity right now. She wants to understand.

"The numbers spoke." Baekhyun says, she lets out a laugh, bending down and looking away, walking in circles to clear her head a little, because this might be it, the thing that she left a whole life behind without being able to figure out, the reason her father got killed along with Junmyeon's that winter night.

The sun is sinking low. Across the river, at the end of one of the many bridges that connect two sides of the city, the scattered concrete and glass buildings across are tinted with a peachy color diffusing the air, still, quiet, possibly empty, and it certainly feels like the whole city came to meet here, right at this moment.

"You do realize how fucking nuts it sounds when you say the numbers spoke to you, right, you’re aware of that--"

"Figure of speech. Point is, we knew because it's possible. Your father created something that sounds like it's out of a sci-fi movie, yes, but it’s real, Rin, it _works_."

"If this is all true, this is like... Siri for world peace… this is some _Alexa bring the crime rates down to zero_ shit. You're still not explaining how it works. I know I'm not a techie like you, but if it's real you can at least try to put it in words."

Baekhyun smiles, with mouth and eyes full of mirth like he has a joke in mind he's dying to share, he opens his mouth, closes it when he looks up, chin raising towards the lamp behind her.

She turns around, recognizing the shape of a security camera, pointing down in their direction.

"Heavy mass surveillance"

She breathes. A strong gust of wind carrying that earthy smell that means they'll soon need an umbrella hits them, but it's all background noise.

"Please say you’re fucking with me" she says, looking around. "I know Jongdae is somewhere behind a bush recording us right now, this is what this--"

"No," Baekhyun says, taking her phone from her hand and putting it up so that she can look at it. "We’re not. Look around you. Tell me a place where it's impossible to track what someone's doing, planning to do, thinking, _feeling_. There's hardly a person here that doesn't carry a camera and a mic inside their pocket, it's there when they go to bed, when they wake up, even when they go to the bathroom."

She snatches her phone back, finds the power button and presses on it, letting her eyes rest on the water, not caring if she fucks it up. She knew her father's death wasn't an accident, that he'd been up to something months, years before the so-called accident happened the moment she saw both boxes holding their ashes next to each other.

But this is past what her mind could've conjured, and she's sure she's able to come up with darker shit than your average citizen.

“Your father” she says, not needing to ask him directly “He was involved with this”

"Yes” Junmyeon fixes his throat “He handled the connections needed to make it work, negotiations, coming to the terms your dad felt comfortable with."

"Negotiations?"

"With the government," Junmyeon says. "It was a big deal, think about it, how you were freaking out about the amount of money he left for you. It makes sense. This is real, Rina."

She laughs airily, walking around on wobbly legs and letting her head fall back on her shoulders.

"How naive of me not thinking that he got it handing the privacy of the whole god damn nation to the government."

"Saying nation scale would be falling short, but--"

"Baekhyun, don't."

Her head whips out to them, squinting.

"How are you two so comfortable with this?"

"Rina, do you know why he did it?" Baekhyun asks, finger pointing over her shoulder "That right there is the reason why."

She turns, meeting the lights from the memorial at a distance, colors flickering, almost illuminating the now dark sky.

"That day, people realized how vulnerable we are and your father started to work on something that would ensure a tragedy like that wouldn't happen again. He sacrificed the privacy of thousands..."

A shiver goes right through her, her phone vibrates in her hand, like pulling her back to earth, but she can't seem to be able to take her eyes off the memorial.

"... to create a world were those 975 lives could've been saved. According to official records, they call it Operation Arcadia."

_**Operation Arcadia.** _

A warm hand falls on her shoulder, asking for her to turn around. Junmyeon's eyes are soft, a pliable smile that says he may not be feeling what she's going through right now, but that he gets it.

"It's a lot, I know, but it's true."

"I-- ok." she exhales. "Ok. And that's how you guys knew about Chungjae, Nayeon, and me being at risk that night."

"Yes, but it's important that you understand that the surveillance is done by the system itself, like a black box, it's not manually operated, no human party, being them or us, has access to it" Baekhyun rushes to explain. 

It echoes in her head, _them or us._ There’s so much of this to be uncovered. Questions bristle inside her head, making her dizzy.

"I'm not going into details right now, because it's not the point, but this is when the backdoor you talked about becomes important."

"You found it."

Baekhyun smiles proudly "We did."

"The government was mostly worried about acts of terrorism, organized crime, potential nation scale threats like that," Junmyeon says. "But _Operation Arcadia_ is designed to also identify smaller, specific, individual potential acts of violence, like what happened to Nayeon, the kind you see every day on the news. They didn't care about those, but you? me? our parents? the ordinary person..."

"They do."

"We do," Junmyeon says firmly. "And we do what we can with what we have. All of us. We've been doing that for a while, even since Baek, Yeol and Dae figured out a way in and we got a hang of it. Rin, you knew him better than anyone, he didn’t leave those codes behind for no reason."

She gulps. Her father was never careless with his actions, that much is true. She knows what Junmyeon’s implying, she heard him loud at clear that night when he took her to their basement. Could this be her father’s will?

Rewind. That’s something for another day.

"So I was right, you wanted me to join your little vigilante club." she laughs, letting out a puff of breath she'd been holding without knowing, the dry skin of her lips stretching painfully, turning to rest against the rusty handrail.

"You're welcome to join, work with us as a team. I think-- know you'd be of help, you're quick and resourceful. I had a feeling at first, but we got the confirmation we needed. I mean it, Rin, I think it’ll work."

"Please?" Baekhyun adds, taking place next to her, folding his torso over the handrail to make her look at his puppy face. She scrunches her nose and flicks his dangly silver earring.

"Thank you," she says. "For telling me this. I--"

"You'll think about it and reach out to us, got it."

"--don't think there's anything to think about," she says, half of her face grimacing, biting her lip before blurting out "I still have a lot of... questions?"

"Ask away." Junmyeon encourages

"I think there's been enough shocking value for today, or the rest of the year, though, and you guys... you're fine as you are"

"Rina..." Baekhyun shakes his head "Are you seriously--"

"You don't need me" she pinches his arm, rolling her eyes at his dramatic cry of pain "I can tell, please, you even have Kato."

Junmyeon's smile is distant, trying really hard not to let her see his disappointment.

"Don't worry about me knowing, ok?" she says, pulling out her phone, Yerim's name on the screen comforts her, she has something to go home to "I should go, it was nice seeing you, as fucking weird this conversation turned out, let's never do it again, ok?"

Baekhyun's hug is different, he leans his weight on her, almost hanging on to her shoulders, shifting the two from side to side, whisper loud enough for Junmyeon to pick up on 

"Are you sure you want to walk away from this? Is it because of what happened?"

She laughs bitterly. “You say that as if it was just some dumb fight.”

“Rina—”

"I have to go" she says, and it's all he needs to take a step back, nodding and looking away.

"Take care." Junmyeon calls out to her "We're a call away. Don't be a stranger. I mean it"

Maybe one day she'll feel like she isn't. Not tonight.

Walking out of the park entails ordering her legs to do their thing and not clench like gravity, or some strange unseen force wants her to go back. 

She sees a pair of girls standing by a bench, one with her feet propped up as she ties her shoes, the other just waiting for her. The phone booth next to a water fountain rings, making the shoe girl lose her balance and stumble a little, the three of them laugh, now having crossed eyes.

She's two, three lamps away when it stops ringing, eyes forward as small droplets of rain start to fall, the trail curving ensuring that even if she looks back, Junmyeon and Baekhyun are no longer be visible.

Later that night, cuddled up on the side of her bed, Yerim takes most of the space between her and Taemin, who has the funniest double chin as he looks at the movie being projected on her bedroom wall, some Japanese action remake she hasn't been focusing on at all.

It's 3 am, it's her turn to get more snacks from the kitchen, or so Yeri claims.

She's carrying a few empty bowls and empty beer bottles, crossing her dark living room when her eyes catch the lights coming from a led sign on the building across being reflected on one of the chess pieces Taemin took his time arranging earlier.

The empty box is underneath the coffee table, and for some reason, like half hopping it isn't there to ignore its existence, she puts everything on the kitchen counter and comes pack to pick it up, getting her hand inside and... there it is, the white paper sheet.

She turns around so that the light hits it better and reads the message written in thin black ink.

_Welcome back._

"Jiaaaaaaaaah" Tae calls from the bedroom, almost making her drop it “I’m thirsty, what’s taking you so long?”

  


**082818 -** **21:58**

"There's no point wondering what would've happened if it was Yixing who talked to her" Jongdae says. "It's her choice, end of the story, besides, we _have_ a name to worry about."

"That's what's bugging me, aren't you listening to me?" Baekhyun insists. "We get a name minutes after we tell her, right as Rina's walking past, it's like she _knew,_ like she wanted to say..."

"Move on and get to it?" Jongdae offers. "Or, I don't know, maybe _she i_ s just an artificial system that wasn't created to even intercede in a simple human, non-violent interaction like that?"

Weeks ago it was a matter of _if_ they would tell her, and then, very much against Minseok's word, it became _who._

To him, Baekhyun is just too eager, too quick to trust others and too willing to attribute human qualities to computers systems, Chanyeol's emotionally driven reactions often cloud his ability to look at the whole picture, Kyungsoo’s, well, Kyungsoo and Yixing... who knows, sometimes he can't figure out what goes through his head, and he's supposed to be the people reader here.

"What about you?" Junmyeon says, as Minseok drags his eyes away from his empty glass in curiosity, he finds that he's looking straight at him.

"What about me?" he drawls out, not bringing his head up from where it's resting on his open palm.

Surely he's not suggesting he...

"You've been like this since the wedding... all in your head," Junmyeon says, walking over to pour him another drink. Raw, honey brown and rich, just how he likes it, except these days not even his favorite liquor can relieve the pressure on the sides of his head "Tell us what's been bothering you, otherwise we can't work it out."

A stray thought hits him, a reminder that no one would have bet on the two crossing paths and becoming as close as brothers, not if their upbringings had gotten away with it, and at the end it leads back to her; hadn't it been for Kang Rina, the two would have continued on to be the strangers they were meant to be.

So it's surprising when her name doesn't come out of Junmyeon's mouth.

"I know it has to do with Kim Namjoon," he says. "Speak up."

"Oh? What about him?" Baekhyun perks up like he always does when he senses he's missed on something.

He's relieved that the conversation has steered away from _her_.

And it's not like Junmyeon is far from the truth either.

Their conversation has been going over and over on repeat in his head, leaving gaps and planting worries instead of conclusions, which is not a good sign. He wasn't even able to feel relief have Baekhyun and Junmyeon came home in silence, defeated looks on his faces that meant what he'd been hoping for: 

That Jung Jiah, Kang Rina or whoever or the two made the right choice.

_For once_ , a bitter voice inside him adds.

Maybe it's how he spoke with the confidence and self-satisfaction of someone who knows they have the upper hand. Minseok didn't even need to bring her up himself. Namjoon's upper lip twitched like he was just eager to discuss it, handing him a glass of champagne.

> _"She has no place in this agreement, and we plan on keeping it that way." Minseok said offhandedly, no sign of interest in the subject._
> 
> _"The way she paled when she saw the two of you in my office... I thought you had to know her better than anyone in this world, for sure" Namjoon said, pretending to be talking to himself "I know what fear looks like on her, but I never saw her react like that before. Hearing you say that and sounding so convinced of yourself, it makes me think maybe you don't know her at all."_
> 
> _"Maybe we've met different girls" Namjoon chuckled at that._
> 
> _"Could be. Although I am curious about this... acquaintanceship of yours with her, that's a subject for another day. The Jiah I know, she'll find a way in if she wants to, but if you're confident you can keep her at bay, go ahead, no one wants her out of this as much as I do."_
> 
> Of course you fucking do, _he thought, it comes out as "I find it hard to believe, in all honesty"_
> 
> _"I was fond of the girl, Xiumin, the minute I saw her" Namjoon brought his eyebrows up, pressing the edge of his glass to his lips and smiling at him with his eyes only, "What can I say, I have a soft spot for wounded animals. She grows on you, doesn't she?"_
> 
> _A dimple sunk into the man's cheek as he shifted to the front just the slightest, in time to catch Junmyeon leading the two to the dance floor, a taunting smile on her face that doesn't slip even when Junmyeon stops_ _her from crashing against a member of staff carrying drinks._
> 
> _"If there's anything, anyone you should see as a threat to her, trust me, you're wasting your time being wary of me. I'd never lay a hand on her."_
> 
> _"Why not, if I may ask?" Minseok smirked as he tore his eyes from the two, letting them get lost in the crowd "Everyone's disposable, this is the life we chose. What's done has to be done to protect what little we've build"_

"Did you believe him?" Junmyeon asks.

"Not for a second."

Kim Namjoon might not want to bother washing fresh blood off his own hands or his expensive designer clothes, but he wouldn't stop to give the order to one of his men if he saw it fit the minute she became an inconvenience, and for Rina, it’s not something hard to achieve.

She has a history pissing off the wrong kind of men, prying into dark things with senseless bravado.

Junmyeon hums in agreement, eyes grazing the walls of the office, cheeks sucking into a sip of his drink.

"It doesn't add up, if he wants to use her for bargain value, why insist on not wanting her involved?" Baekhyun frowns. "He should be making subtle threats and demanding whatever it is he wants by now, he should've done that months ago, _before_ you signed"

"Whatever kind of control he has on any party puts him in advantage." Minseok says bitterly.

"And we're talking about Rina" Jongdae chimes in "Tell her not to do something and she'll charge straight to it, if he tries to assert any kind of authority over her, what do you think she'll do?"

Letting out a defeated breath and settling on the arm of the couch, Junmyeon crosses his arms and shakes his head.

"This is exactly why I thought we should've brought her in, I hoped that once saw the whole picture, she--"

Something in him flips at that.

"She could've put at risk everything we've built. And she still can, just like this" Minseok says, snapping his finger "She's about to become journalist. Keeping secrets isn't exactly part of her curriculum, and this isn't just us, Junmyeon, the others, their lives are at stake too, they've trusted us, Sehun and Jongin."

> _"Food for thought, Xiumin. That girl is too smart for her own good." Namjoon said as they walked closer to them "It's always the brave ones that go down first, you can try and stop it from happening, but it's only a matter of time."_
> 
> _There it was. The faintest threat laid out to him so transparently. Kim Namjoon was painting the exact picture of the night she got shot and showing it to him proudly. He knew it was them who helped her out._

"Sehun and Jongin trust her," Baekhyun says defensively "Want to know why? Just ask them what happened the other night."

"I don't need to," Minseok says dismissively, shrugging. "And it's not like it matters how they feel, they barely know her."

"So? We do" he insists. "You do, Chanyeol grew up with her and he agrees with us."

"You're fooling yourself if you think five years do nothing to a person" he chuckles in disbelief, running a hand through his face "Something happened to her, anyone can see it, and I'm not a psychiatrist but I saw her freaking out like a feral cat in the middle of nowhere the other night, you think she can handle this? all the pressure?"

"Do you have to be so..."

" _Cruel_ was making her walk inside that building like bait for sexual offenders to leave her there. _Cruel_ is wanting to lure her into this when she has some stability going on for her" he cuts himself off with a chuckle and shakes his head "Hell, she was already a little messed up--"

"Minseok, I love you, man, but shut up." Jongdae groans, putting a hand in the air to stop him "Shut up. I can't stand you when you get like this."

Minseok rolls his eyes, huffing out and leaning back on the couch.

"All I'm saying is if you care for her so much, then _don't_ mix her into this anymore than you have" he says, closing his eyes just to let them rest them because he's lost count of how many times he's said this, made his stance clear to all of them.

Enough of them agreed at first, he's sure Kyungsoo is still on his side, he's not the kind to change his mind so easily, unlike Chanyeol who wears his heart on his sleeve. Jongdae never explicitly encouraged the little heart to heart Junmyeon arranged tonight, but now he can see that he's partial to it.

Junmyeon's phone buzzes loudly. Baekhyun looks up at him like someone just slapped him.

"Hey." he says, picking up, a little breathless "Yeah, yeah. Everything ok?"

Pause, he looks up, crossing eyes with Baekhyun, Jongdae, then turns. Slowly, like a small flame being lit up, Baekhyun perks up, uncrossing his legs and searching for Junmyeon's face as he turns his back on them.

"Are you sure... you sound..."

All they can do is listen to him talk to whoever it is on the other side of the line.

But they all know who it is either way.

"Yeah, of course it is, why--"

Pause, a short one.

"Ok, goodnight." he hangs up, putting the phone down on the desk and staring at it for a moment before looking up. "It was Rina"

"What'd she say?" Jongdae asks.

"She's in."


	10. Chapter 10

**082918** \- **10:23**

_**“Before we start, let’s make one thing clear here; I know more than you”** _

Her hand covers her mouth a second too late, the beginning of an ugly laugh escapes her throat and his hand shoots all across the middle dash, ripping the metallic star pressed on her shirt, putting it up in the air for her to see before dramatically dropping it next to some spare change on the console between them, eyes on the road.

It’s too early for him to be so committed to looking like he has a stick up his ass.

**_“Consider this a trial day. A tutorial, just for didactic purposes if you may. In case that’s not clear enough for you, you do as a say and follow my lead. You don’t jump in or do anything without notifying me, no wandering around. We deal with the lives of people who cannot, under any circumstances, know what we’re up to. Are we clear?”_ **

Answering through a yawn, she rolls her eyes at how boring this will probably be. 

_**“** _ _**Crystal clear”** _

The only reason she managed to wake up before 1 pm was the urge to pee and her room a/c at industrial fridge temperature, Yerim and Taemin hogging her blankets. What did she find when she squinted at her phone on the way to the bathroom? Yixing demanding pictures of her wearing _The Shirt_ and Baekhyun asking if she was ready for her first day with too many emojis for her tired eyes to distinguish.

_News spread fast._

Now here she is, tightly strapped against the seat of another fancy black car like the many she’s seen at their place, pulling on the neck of this blue graphic t-shirt that’s about three times too big for her, with a 2D printed collar and tie that has five little press on metallic stars on it.

Five strikes and you get a punishment, Sehun said, because apparently this is what she signed up for when she called Junmyeon to let him know she changed her mind about his little Winx Club.

Baekhyun sounded innocent enough on the phone, telling her it was crucial for her to wear the uniform, also letting her know Sehun might or might not be a little extra during her first day and to _please, Rin, just humor him, he’s sensitive about changes like this._

His voice is clear and cheery through the speakers 

“ _Alright, just to make sure we’re on the same page, the name is Lee Seojoon, 31 years old, lives alone, works as a night guard by, well— night, he’s delivery man for a bakery during the day. No girlfriend, no kids. We don’t know if he’s a victim or a perpetrator yet but the ideal scenario is to stop anyone from being killed_.”

“Delivery man? Maybe an accident, something like that?” Rina asks as Sehun parks the car, turning the engine off and walking out into the sunny morning.

She slips the earpiece, eyeing Sehun as he walks around the car, Chanyeol’s voice fills her left ear _“—accident, no, you see… names come up because of potential danger triggered by deliberated actions, things like car crashes and such can’t be premeditated.”_

Rina wonders who else is on the line when a thought hits her.

“So if he planned on purposefully crashing a car into someone, then…”

_“Then yes, that could make his name come up, yeah.”_ Chanyeol says after a moment of silence _“But I don’t think he’s planning to go to work today, he’s just… running errands, actually he’s kind of boring”_

_“And doesn’t boring sound lovely after these past few weeks, especially for Rina’s first name”_

Seojoon lives in an open three-story building that reminds her of one of those motels in the middle of nowhere, too normal, too domestic for the way Sehun strolls in like he’s either the owner or he’s closing a Valentino show for fashion week. It’s with that same kind of ease that he puts his arm inside to open up the gate to the stairs, walking up two steps at once.

“You need to move faster than this.” he takes a long sip of iced tea as she catches up to him, pulling her hair up in a ponytail. “We’re trying to get ahead of things.”

“Your legs are too long.”

“Your legs are too short, and you’re not fit enough for the things we usually do” he corrects her, suddenly squinting at her. “Are you wearing mascara? You do know this is a physically exerting job, right?”

“It’s waterproof, and you’re wearing foundation.” she brings a finger up to his face–

Bad move. He snatches her wrist in the air the same way you would slap a mosquito, holding it up with a blank face.

“It’s tinted SPF” he scoffs and pushes her arm away.

“Just say BB cream, I promise your dick won’t fall off” she snorts, unfazed by the brusque action. She points at the door they’re looking for before he walks past it, 

There’s a particular something about Sehun. He has the potential to be a certified asshole, too tall for comfort, more bitchiness than blood running through his veins, too mouthy for his own good, and sure, she thought he was hot when they first met but now…

_“I’m not against this lovely moment of bonding and banter but let’s keep the genitalia talk past 2 pm, please? Thank you”_ Baekhyun chimes in

Now it just tickles something in her seeing him so obviously annoyed about this. She suspects he put up a good fight about being put in charge of her and only Junmyeon could make him give in. 

From the dynamic she’s picked up on between him and the rest of the guys she can tell Oh Sehun knows no figure of authority other than whipped Junmyeon from time to time and Minseok, and well, it’s already been established what the last one thinks of her being involved.

She wonders what his reaction was like, if he even knows at all by now, if his suspicions of her have grown.

The door on apartment 203 has the zero missing, leaving behind its silhouette imprinted by the lack of sun exposure, it’s somehow both depressing and something else she can’t pinpoint. Sehun pulls out his own black phone just like the one tucked on the back of her jeans, pressing a finger against the lower part of the thick, black case, above where the charger’s supposed to be plugged in.

A round, small thin the size of a poker chip detaches itself from it. He presses it against the door, near the handle, an inner circle on it lights up in red light, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d be getting ready for it to blow up—

Nothing but the puny click of the lock is heard, and while she’s frankly concerned about how naturally easy this is, something like a thrill of excitement hits her.

“You’ll find one like this on yours, use it wisely”

“So this is what you do? Break into people’s places?” she asks, walking inside, eager eyes scanning the place. It’s small, lacking inner walls except for the small open door leading to a tiled room that can’t be anything but a bathroom. “Are we doing a surprise makeover?”

“I didn’t break into yours, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, stopping to look at her when she doesn’t move from her spot, lifting her brow at the implication that while he didn’t do it, someone else probably did.

He ignores her “There’s a lot you can pick up from someone’s place, helps getting to know what kind of name you’re dealing with so… knock yourself out”

The apartment entrance leads right into the kitchen. She keeps her mouth closed, distracted by the excitement of snooping inside a stranger’s house.

A smell that can only be described as fridge fills the kitchen. There’s a small counter with two stools tucked in separating the living room, covered with bread crumbs, the peels of an apple and some dirty knives. It doesn’t take sharp deduction skills to figure out his lifestyle. It’s right in your face. Several worn out thermal mugs lined up on the counter next to a greasy coffee machine by the stove against a half-empty fridge that Sehun goes through.

“Looks like he cares more about his caffeine intake than actual food.” she mumbles through a pout.

_“Makes sense, bet he has the most messed up sleeping schedule with the way his schedule works”_

There’s an old tv by the corner in front of a worn-out couch, it seems to be a constant in this place, old stuff that’s been well kept by someone who has no choice but to value his possessions more than the person that can afford to replace things often.

“He’s not exactly starving but he isn’t rich either, he’s able to make meets end with his two paychecks, no debts, most of the money he doesn’t spend on rent or basic stuff he sends over to his mother.”

“He’s a good son.” Sehun sums up. Bending down to stare at the frames under the tv, picking up one and showing it to her as she walks past “And I’m guessing a good uncle? What did he get himself into?”

A matt pushed against the corner is neatly done with greyish-blue blankets, on the nightstand by the side there’s a tightly wrapped up phone charger and some eye drops that she puts back in the exact place she picked it up from; the man isn’t clean, but there’s calculation to his messiness, and he might have an eye for misplaced stuff, like the perfectly ironed blue uniform hanging from a nail on the wall she doesn’t touch. 

Instead, she’s drawn by the makeshift closet opposite of his mat. Sehun walks into the bathroom with animosity, pushing the door open with his foot.

She pushes a few clothes hanging to the side. The majority of the hangers are empty. 

“Chanyeol, you still following him?” she asks, going through a few container boxes, finding books, pictures, an old brown folder filled with personal documents.

_“Yeah, why?”_

“Is he carrying anything on him, like a bag?”

_“No, why?”_ Behind a greasy heavy toolbox, she finds a worn-out black backpack.

“Nevermind.” she breathes out, pulling it out. It’s light, lighter than she was expecting.

She zips it open, gasping quietly at its contents. It’s filled with plushies. A lot of them. Too many of them.

“Anything interesting over there?” She asks, grabbing a light brown teddy bear by its ears, they’re all dressed in blue shirts with little hats over their furry heads.

Can’t blame a girl for seeing a few red flags when she discovers a grown man has a plushie collection.

“He’s balding.” Sehun says dismissively, walking out of the bathroom “What about— what are you doing?”

Rina doesn’t look up at him from her seat on the floor, holding a plushie and throwing it up at him.

“I think he hides them. Weird, huh?” she scrunches her nose. “Even if he collects them, why keep the same exact one?”

Sehun’s face is blank as he throws it back at her “This is nothing compared to the stuff we’ve found, you’ll get used to it.”

_“Is it another dildo collection?”_ Baekhyun asks casually.

“Plushies,” Sehun says, his attention now drawn to the uniform.

“Six, no— seven plushies”

_“Maybe they’re for the nephews.”_ Chanyeol offers _“He’s going through a toy store right now, seems like a drone’s caught his attention.”_

“And he’s armed, so keep an eye on him.” Sehun declares out of nowhere, she’s still zipping the backpack when she hears a metallic noise behind her.

Sehun holds a belt up high for her to see. The holster dangles in the air, empty.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but he’s not supposed to be armed outside of work, right?” he says dryly.

“Not unless he’s afraid of something.”

_“Or planning to do something,”_ Chanyeol says. _“He’s the definition of calm, trust me, he doesn’t move like he’s afraid at all.”_

**082918 - 12:01**

Seeing Seojoon in the flesh makes it all freakishly real: up close, at a discreet distance that allows them to not walk past or get too close to him when he suddenly stops to look at something or waits to cross some street, something that Sehun has mastered with practice.

He’s not just some fake identity set up by the guys to test her, but an actual human being with legs and arms, a short, burly man who wasn’t graced with handsome features, extremely polite to strangers, specifically old people.

Someone about to be involved in some tragic, violent event.

As they follow him around the commercial area with no apparent destination, Sehun and Rina agree on one thing, window shopping can’t be as stressful as it looks like on him. His stance, tensed shoulders and pained resting face is the complete opposite from Chanyeol’s verdict. Apparently, he was only covering to give Sehun and her the time to examine his place for her to get a hang of things.

Didactic purposes indeed.

Chanyeol, unlike Sehun who remains skeptical about her insisting on taking one of the plushies, is excited to drive back home with the little furry thing, a smile still on him as he gave them his prediction:

Seojoon is a perpetrator, about to commit a petty crime that will go south quickly.

He doesn’t think he’s necessarily a murderer, but things can go wrong in the snap of a finger when it comes to guns. As the hours pass, Rina becomes more and more convinced that Chanyeol’s missing something.

When Seojoon finally stops by a juice stand, Sehun decides that it’s time for lesson number two… or three? taking her phone from her as he throws an arm over her shoulders. A switch is flipped before her eyes.

It’s like he becomes someone else, his walk, the look on his face, eyes missing their usual opacity of disinterest, even his voice comes out different.

“Heard it’s good for your health, mmm? See if we can get some color on those cheeks”

She’s stunned by this overly affectionate Sehun, making unintentional eye contact with Seojoon when he turns to quickly scan them with his eyes, a soft frown on his round eyes before he dismisses them as another chatty couple.

Sehun is good, but if she’s mastered anything with years of handling people unwilling to give out information to her -them being aware of it or not- is molding into what strangers are expecting from her.

“You know how I feel about mixing pineapple with stuff” she whines, focused on the menu on the side of the little car, playing with Sehun’s bony wrist over her shoulder. “And there’s a reason why blush exists, silly.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try something new, and I don’t know, avoid anemia?” Sehun mumbles, settling himself between her and Seojoon and leaning on his side, his back towards him.

Seojoon gives his phone what must be screen check number 254, unaware of Sehun’s haughty expression as he unblocks the phone for her eyes only.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Seojoon orders some detox mix that takes longer than your usual fresh juice, Sehun’s fingers are intentionally slow as he goes through a weird app. The design is simple, all black, just a long list of codes he goes through up and down.

No— phone numbers, little bars, and names next to them, and right at the top, with full four bars, is _Lee Seojoon_. Another tap and there’s a message. Engaged.

“Check this out,” Sehun says, giving it to her in time for Seojoon to thank the cashier, taking their orders. To the outsider’s eye, he’s just a guy showing a friend some memes, instead, Rina finds a brand new screen with a homepage that does not match the background picture of Baekhyun’s selfie the phone originally had, but a picture of Seojoon with two kids under his arms by some shore.

She taps around messages, calls list and contacts, all belonging to Seojoon. Sehun wiggles his eyebrows, looking incredibly smug as he hands her some watermelon and mint mix and pays with a card. “Believe it or not, that’s all Baek’s doing.”

_“Excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?”_

“I see your nerd antics turned out to be useful” Rina laughs in disbelief, and the inevitable question comes “I guess this is worth getting your ass handed to you by Jinyoung after school for years”

_“What ass?”_ Chanyeol snorts

_“What do you mean what ass? Just because Sehun has two meatballs on his trunk defying gravity doesn’t mean—”_

“He has what?” she bursts out laughing, Sehun is unaffected, focused on the man they’re following.

_“I saw you checking him out the other day, Rin, don’t play dumb with me.”_ Baekhyun threatens, and thank god Sehun ignores it _“And the ass handing back then was 30% because of me and 80% because of you pissing Jinyoung off thinking you were helping me at all, so…”_

“That’s 110% percent”

_“I know, more than necessary”_

“Alright, back to the topic, this _thing_ works by distance, right?”

_“10 meters for most devices, nothing to worry about once you’re engaged but that’s only because—”_

“Did you go through my stuff too?”

_“Your pictures_ _are untouched”_ Baekhyun assures _“This is strictly used for life-saving purposes”_

She sighs. While she doesn’t keep nudes or anything of the sort in there, she had some serious, and even embarrassing convos stored there.

Sehun snorts. “Yeah, because Chanyeol’s ex was really in danger when he had a marathon reading her texts.”

“ _Shut it, Sehun”_ Chanyeol snaps.

_“Well, she who shall remain unnamed was fucking her boss, so…”_

“Ok— we’re putting that to the side for another time” Rina frowns down at the screen, “I think someone’s calling him”

Sehun grabs the phone from her hands, putting it on speaker between the two of them.

_“You said 3 pm, where the hell are you?”_

_“And I also said not to dare come empty-handed. How do I know you’re not fucking with me, huh? I need to make sure this is legit, you know how many punks come around claiming the same thing? I’m not about to risk it with my buyers.”_

_“I can’t carry this stuff with me, it’s too much of a risk”_ there’s a hint of worry and desperation on Seojoon as he paces in front of a corner store, looking around at every person that walks past him hoping to see a familiar face. He breathes in, puts his phone down and looks at the sky before putting it against his ear again _“Forget it, I’ll find someone else, I don’t have time for—”_

_“Don’t be impatient, Seojoon. Impatient gets you in trouble and right now… you’re on thin ice, you’re selling stolen goods. I could easily rat you out and make some good friends up there, huh? So watch your tone with me, be a little smarter than that.”_

“So our Seojoon took something that doesn’t belong to him and is trying to sell it out to some weird guys,” Sehun mumbles

“Clearly it isn’t going his way, they’re gonna eat him up” Chanyeol says.

_“Jewelry, exotic animals, car parts, tech, drugs?_ ” Baekhyun lists out.

“Hard to know. Unless we missed something at his apartment, he’s got to be keeping it somewhere else.” Sehun says. “Drugs would be the easiest to hide, maybe jewelry.”

Something’s there. A loud horn blasts through their voices, and the echo from it catches her attention as Baekhyun says something about tracking the caller. The echo comes from both sides of the phone call.

The mean guy Seojoon is talking to has to be near enough for his mic to pick up on it too.

She scans the place, some antique store, a boutique having a sale, the park across the street where puppies are up for adoption and there, next to a row of recycling bins, a phone boot where a man in a black shirt and a buzzcut talks on the phone. He’s looking at Seojoon.

Sehun gives her a bewildered look when she walks away, pressing the phone into his ear as Seojoon grows agitated on the phone on the street across. Crossing the street in the opposite direction and walking up to the containers, taking her time reading the color-coded signs as she finishes up her juice.

The door on the phone booth makes a screech as the man steps out, passing behind her as she drops the cup on a trash container and follows him at a comfortable pace.

_“Seojoon’s headed home,”_ Sehun says _“This is not the time for a park stroll”_

“Just wait.”she insists. The short man pulls out a phone from his pocket, and she doesn’t need Baekhyun’s fancy spyware to catch up to the conversation on his side.

“I say he’s definitely got it, the guy’s shaking like a little chihuahua.” he chuckles, “No way, man. I’m not fucking with their merch, and who knows, if we play our cards right, J could very well owe us one at the end of this”

Done with listening, rushed by Sehun, who’s going overprotective mother on her about crossing the street without looking to the sides, she heads back.

_“I have bad news and kind of good news,”_ Baekhyun says. _“Bad news is Kato kind of decapitated your plushie, Rin. Good news, we know what Seojoon’s has his hands on”_

_**082918 - 11:32 pm**   
_

_“_ _You holding up alright there?”_

Not a soul roams outside, not a single gust of wind to maybe give any semblance that this grey, deserted industrial park belongs to earth. It’s not like it matters much, there are no trees outside for it to shake or her to notice, the windows drawn up on the car mute everything outside.

It’s been a few hours since they figured out the plushies Seojoon’s been hiding are stuffed with some new hallucinogen, new enough that the guys couldn’t figure out the market price themselves. Even less since they heard Seojoon’s set a time and place for some shady meeting with some unknown fellas. 

Ten minutes since she was left alone here.

“Yep”

She shoves a mouthful of chips from the bag Sehun had the decency of throwing on her lap before stepping down in the car and disappearing between the buildings to stop Seojoon from being ambushed with Jongdae’s help, leaving her trapped inside like a neglected five-year-old.

Because in Oh Sehun’s mind it’s a good idea to drive her to the damn meeting point only to leave her under strict orders not to leave the car and just wait for god knows what.

_“Think of this as one of those late-night radio shows, just lean the seat back and relax.”_

“Mhmm.”

_“Seriously, you worked hard today, everything will be done in a second, then we can have drinks to celebrate your first day”_

Exactly another three minutes or so pass, she knows from looking at the time on the screen every now and then. A look in the rearview and her head bumping against the window glass and then she’s jumping into a frenzy, going through the glovebox, her hand feeling under the seats, the dashboard, and everywhere they might’ve left a spare gun.

Nada.

Ignition off, she walks out of the car. From the earpiece she hears Jongdae give the signal that six men have arrived from the south entrance, breaking in groups and heading in the direction where Seojoon is waiting, unaware of Sehun’s shadow on his trail.

Saying she worked hard for the day sounds like a stretch, she still has three of those little starts to lose, and what’s the point to celebrating her first day if she stays behind and lets the guys wrap things up instead of helping?

Also, she’s curious. Things don’t look good on Seojoon’s side, if he’s messed with the people she suspects he has, it means they won’t let him off that easy. And six men against two? No offense to Jongdae or Sehun, but it doesn’t sound like a fair match.

Her shoes make too much echo against the empty road lined up with boring box-shaped corporate buildings. She sticks to the darker spots, avoiding the lightened sidewalks. The place is huge, that much was obvious by the airview Baekhyun showed them back at the house, it could take her all night finding the exact location without asking.

That’s where she’s headed to until she recognizes something, a particular combination of shapes and purple and green colors in one of the logos painted on a big building across the street.

Her feet walk on their own instinct. It’s the logo she remembers seeing on parked delivery cars around the city but most importantly, printed on the plushies’ tags, the same that is painted on one of the cargo containers attached to the back of the grey building, a dark, empty loading dock. She fumbles with her phone, almost dropping it before successfully pulling out the chip and surveying the huge metal roll-up door, leaning down to press it against the metal.

A second, two, then three. She’s quickly running out of hope that the little magnetic thing will work, too good to be true. She tries again, hearing Jongdae give orders to stand back for a second until she hears a sound and the electric bolts open by a few inches.

She pulls it up enough to fit through bending under it and walks inside, closing the door again, wincing at the unnecessarily loud noise it makes.

Under white lights, the smell of plastic hits her nose in the wide space, several small cargo cars parked around huge, tall industrial racks filled with boxes and wrapped up packages. She grabs a thick silver cutter forgotten on one of the tables and starts surrounding the place, eyes reading the description on the boxes, a little too aware of several cameras on the ceiling, too pumped up to care.

When she finally finds plushie row, there are about ten huge boxes piled up, she lets out a breathy laugh of disbelief; there’s too many of them, too many for anyone with the guts to steal and sell drugs to take only seven items and risk it all. She’s about to cut one open when she’s distracted reading the white sticker with shipping info and some codes printed on it.

_“Ok, maybe he’s smarter than we thought.”_

_“You call that a smart move?”_

“What? Why?” she asks a little too loudly for the room she’s in. The echo really is unbearable.

_“Something’s wrong,”_ Jongdae says _“He was tricking them, the backpack is filled with regular plushies.”_

“What do you mean regular plushies?” it’s impossible, she hasn’t even opened one of these boxes but she’s more convinced than ever that the plushies inside are stuffed with illegal goods too, there’s no doubt of it.

_“Dude thought he could hand them the backpack and they wouldn’t check inside, the plushies were empty,”_ Sehun says _. “Fuck, the hell did he run off to… Dae—”_

_“I lost him, think he’s trying to hide inside one of the buildings…”_

_“What do you mean you lost him?”_

_“I just did, ok?! The bastart moves fast. Baek, try checking the cameras.”_

That’s all she needs to hear before running up the metal stairs, entering a long ass hallway and opening door after door: offices, a depressingly small kitchen, another office, bathrooms, and then finally the control room, in other words; a private room with a desktop and several screens on the wall. A framed picture of Seojoon, employee of the month.

Bingo.

She finds a backpack under the desk and suddenly the door is kicked open loud enough for the frames on the wall to hit the ground, glass breaking to pieces.

Seojoon’s pale and out of breath, crazed eyes staring at her up and down and a flicker of familiarity flashes by them. Fuck. It’s the stupid shirt.

“Looking for this?”

“ _Huh?”_

He’s about to throw himself at her but she takes a step forward daringly, taking him by surprise.

“You’re not gonna get out of here on your own, you know that right? I mean alive, of course.”

“ _Rina… Rina, please tell me you’re waiting by the car and Seojoon’s with you right now”_

“Who the hell are _you_?”

The sound of a door being slammed open from afar saves her from giving him any kind of bullshit answer. He takes a step back from the door he came through, eyeing the door across. He’ll have to walk across her somehow if he wants to go through it.

The only thing stopping him is the backpack hanging from her arm.

“Someone you haven’t pulled your gun up at yet” she raises one eyebrow “So I’ll be nice and help you out.”

“ _What’s going on?”_

He opens his mouth and closes it, eyes glazing over the backpack. It’s a giveaway that she’s holding the real stuff on her shoulders.

Silence. He doesn’t trust her.

“Seriously? I could’ve filled a trash bag with the ones down at the storage room and walked away with my own share of plushies, but I didn’t. That reminds me, where did you hide the rest?”

“ _Where are you?”_

“What do you mean the rest?” he blurts out, looking genuinely confused at the question, eyes going to the backpack with too much desperation. She can’t blame him for not wanting to chit chat when he has a bunch of pissed off guys hot on his trail.

He’s not lying and _that_ makes no sense. There’s no reason why he should be risking his guts for a few of them if he doesn’t have a stash somewhere else, either that or this merch is worth a lot more than they think.

“Whatever, this is what we’re gonna do.”

Looking down the hallway, she grins at the man currently walking up in all black and gives him a friendly wave. He halts, stopping with a frown and the distraction gives her a few steps to walk down the hallway before turning and sprinting into a run with him following behind her.

“Guys, this is Rina. I’m inside HardC & Co. Seojoon’s friends have joined the party too”

_“We know who you are”_

“ _Wow_ , y _ou have the ability to take orders of a five-year-old with concentration issues_ ”

“Alright, dickheads. Some help over here would be nice.”

Having no option but to head back, she follows the other unexplored side of the corridor, praying it’ll lead her to some sort of exit. This damn building is full of dead ends. She finds a double door leading into an even bigger room surrounded by more doors.

Her lungs are burning, she’s praying the way out is near because she really _really doesn’t_ want to get—

“Please don’t move, I don’t like shooting girls.”

_—_ shot, again.

She freezes. The cold pressing against her temple keeps her eyes straight forward.

“Chill, I might be the reason you won’t end up in the back of a truck with your boyfriend”

“Oh?” she asks. The man takes a few steps away from her, but his gun stays pointing at her all the same. “Why the act of kindness?”

“J won’t give a shit that you’re a girl, you won’t be spared, but I might help you out. What did Seojoon promise you, huh? What’s a pretty one like you doing this? Is he planning on using you as his little mule?”

He’s chatty, that’s good, she can use some time to figure out what to do next. Judging from the breathy noises and curses coming from her left ear, the guys are having their own things to deal with right now.

That’s when her eyes meet Seojoon across the room, on the other side of the small square window on one of the doors. She sees the reflection of screens on the glass and it can only mean that is the control room where she left him, which means she’s been walking in circles and surprisingly he didn’t run off as soon as she left. He stares for a moment and disappears.

There’s only one thing left to do in this situation: talk shit.

“What’s a guy like _you_ handling Wang’s shit for him? He sent the lowest of his men for this, huh? Here I thought he took his merch seriously.”

“You’ve got it wrong there, I don’t work for him” he laughs. Ok, she got one thing wrong, but she got the confirmation she needed about the owner “Alright, this is boring, drop the backpack and I’ll give you ten seconds to get your ass out of here before I—”

She drops one strap, letting the full weight of the backpack on her shoulder before swinging it around and hitting him full force with it. He stumbles back, falling on his shoulder.

_“What the f—?”_

His curse cuts off to a guttural noise as she jumps on him, putting her knee on his neck and pressing his arm against the floor to get the gun out of her face.

It’s a close fight, she puts all of her weight on his neck and then he gains advantage with his armed hand, the other one grabbing into her ankle behind her trying to release pressure. She folds her other leg, trying to hit his crotch but he moves under her, pulling her leg successfully and making her fall face-first into the polished concrete floor.

Twister never hurt this fucking much before.

She groans. A little dazed by the hit she’s slow to pick up her torso. The man grabs the backpack, massaging his neck and cursing, zipping it up and letting its content fall to the floor: a bunch of office supplies, including two long ass hole punchers that hit the floor and barely miss his foot.

He turns to look at her, all she can do is smile sheepishly.

“You two are full of tricks, a pair of clowns you are, made for each other” he growls, walking towards her, grabs her by the arm “Don’t say I didn’t warn you”

A loud slam is heard, Seojoon walks out of the door, backpack on one shoulder, gun pointing at the man with the other hand.

“Let her go,” he says. “I got what you want right here.”

He’s got his attention now, but she’s still got her torso hanging from the grip his fucking big hands have on her arm that’s quickly running out of blood.

“Let her go, man”

The man lets out a booming laugh, finally dropping her like some discarded rag on a kitchen counter, marching towards him.

“There’s no use, Seojoonie, even if you shoot me right now we’ve got this place surrounded, but it’s nice seeing you trying to play hero, it suits you. Let’s see how you keep it up when J makes an example out of the two of you”

She stands up, painfully but quietly, the screech of the sole of her boots unheard thanks to the brute’s laugh. She ignores the blood on the floor and bends down to pick up a hole puncher, wiping her nose against her shoulder. If he fucked it up, she’s making Junmyeon pay for a nose job.

By now, she vaguely registers the man has mentioned Seojoon’s mother, giving out what sounds like an address, and Seojoon has lost all semblance of blood on his face.

“Not so brave now, are you?”

He takes the safety from the gun, adjusting his grip on it. Sehun walks through the door and doesn’t even miss a beat before grabbing his arm and bending it back just as he’s about to shoot and she lifts the thing up high. The only noise heard is Sehun ordering Seojoon to drop the gun and the crack the hole puncher makes against the back of the man’s head, his body limp meeting the ground.

_“I’m outside with the cat, where are you guys?”_ Dae asks

“Let’s go” Sehun orders, tilting his head to the side and giving her a look over his shoulder “You ok?”

She nods, wiping her face with her shirt.

“Wait, wait, who do you guys work for? Are you cops?” Seojoon asks, still struggling against Sehun’s grip.’

Sehun adjusts his grip on the back of his shirt and pushes him forward “Less questions, more walking. You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

Walking past him and taking Seojoon’s gun from Sehun’s hand, Rina gives the man’s shoulder a strong pat, of encouragement, a silent I told you so. He stares at her in bewilderment, still not moving, but another shove from Sehun and he’s doing as he’s told with a little shake of his head.

**083018 - 00:17**

“Everything seems OK to me, with three years of med school to back me up I can say your nose is not broken”

Turning from Yixing’s squinting eyes on her, she inspects her nose in the mirror with her head still tilted back for a long last time. Her septum is fine, other than the ugly swelling around her nose and the blueish tint appearing under her left eye she’s alright.

“You’re got some dry blood in there, though,” he says, making a nasty face and handing her a wet paper towel. A male customer walks out of the men’s bathroom, waiting for them to leave to use the sink, and the two walk away under his scrutinizing stare, back to the boys to the bar.

“Everything ok?” Baekhyun asks, giving her a glance as she sits on the stool beside that he patted invitingly.

“Does she look ok to you?” Jongdae snorts, a freshly opened bottle close to his lips “Her nose looks like it’s about to come to life. It’s gonna try talking her into killing us all while she’s sleeping.”

Sehun giggles. His cheeks are red and his forehead shiny: it could be from the shot they were handed as soon as they met them here, or the yellow lamp so close to his face warming him up. Next to him, under his arm, Kyungsoo remains collected, paying attention to the conversation, munching on salty peanuts.

“It’s not that bad.” Yixing offers, rubbing circles on her back. Hyunjin, the cute server that threatened the guys for being the cause of the nasty bruise on her face as soon as she took orders comes over with Jongin’s refill and a ice wrapped in a towel for her.

“Ah, thank you so much.” she jumps, eyes wide at the kind woman and her lovely voice, she calls her sweetheart, maybe because she sensed the awkward moment when Baekhyun introduced her as Rina just as she said Jiah.

Old habits die hard.

Jongdae chuckles at the fiery glance she gives him, his eyes subtly following the woman as she walks away to tend to other customers. 

The missing three find them without a fuss or a raised hand from any of them and it’s more clear than ever that they’re regulars here, this poorly lit, warm bar must be a usual reunion point for all of them. It’s nice, not too crowded, good for privacy, and the music’s enjoyable, the kind Chanyeol would put on some playlist of his and obsessively ask if you heard it yet.

Junmyeon sits down with a heavy sigh as he unbuttons his cuffs scanning them all -and is he counting them?- until he brushes past her and makes a double take from Yixing’s form at the very end of the line.

“Oh sh—”

“Not that bad, huh?” she tells Yixing sourly. All he has to offer is a sheepish smile.

Minseok, who’s quick to ask for diesel on the rocks, nods at Baekhyun who retrieves a small package from his pocket, dropping it on the counter. Five foil packages, tightly bound with a plastic band, the small gift Kato discovered as he gutted the plushie. Slim fingers open one of the packages, spilling a good amount of pressed colorful pills.

“They look like candy, don’t you think?” Jongin grimaces. “And hidden inside a kid’s toy… that’s a recipe for danger.”

“Candy doesn’t get people in life-threatening situations,” Minseok mutters, grabbing a neon green one before it falls to the floor, puts it up against the light. “I’ve never seen this before, I’ll have to check with Xuanqi when he gets back”

“Why is he trying to look through it?” Rina mutters, low enough for Yixing to hear. “Is he a drug whisperer or something?”

Yixing opens his mouth like he means to explain when she hears her name being called, softly, from the distance. Minseok rubs the pill between his two fingers, looking at her with wide curious eyes.

He brings his open palm to his ear “I said I didn’t catch what you said, can you repeat that?”

There’s a moment of silence, all eyes are on her. She puts the ice down.

“I said I don’t think your friend will be of help” he narrows his eyes, clearly knowing that’s not what she was originally saying. “ _These_ don’t come from Chinese labs”

“And how do you know that?”

Grabbing her phone, she slides it down the counter, showing them the picture she took of the shipping label back at the warehouse.

“They came all the way from America.” she says “The plushies are Mexican, to be more exact, so are the pills. That’s probably why they’re worth half a kidney”

They hover over the phone. She doesn’t need to explain further, so she leans back and enjoys her drink; fruity and ice-cold, with a side of a Minseok who still hasn’t figured out what she has. His frown digs deeper into his face, crossing his arms over his silk-covered chest. The motion gets her attention, and she finds what she already knows is there.

The key. Her key.

She’s surprised he still wears it.

“Who would have the audacity to bring in drugs from overseas to the market without notifying the syndicate, almost a month after the white flag deal was signed?” Chanyeol asks, interrupting her train of thought, barely saving her from being caught staring as she feels feline eyes land somewhere in her direction.

“Someone who’s bored and trying to create a little chaos?” Sehun shrugs.

“Has to be someone who controls the trading and has import-export licenses” Junmyeon adds, sharing a knowing look with Minseok “There’s no other way this made it here without us knowing.”

She sits back and lets them put the pieces together one by one. Even Yixing leans forward to add his part.

“Then that narrows it down to two families unless this is a rogue group we’re talking about.”

“Look, I’ll dissect this company by tomorrow morning, then we can start figuring out who’s behind this,” Baekhyun says, rolling his eyes, grabbing the closed packages and putting them back in their place. “I’m guessing you took care of Seojoon, right Yeol?”

The guy nods half gulp, grimacing. Still no tolerance to alcohol, she smiles.

“He’s on a flight to a city far away with a new name, his family should meet him there soon”

“Good.” Baekhyun nods “Now let’s drink, unwind, I’d like to celebrate our newest asset’s first day and another name successfully solved without problem.”

“Oh, but I see a big problem right there.” Jongdae laughs, pointing at her face. “And it’s getting bigger.”

She lurches forward, almost knocking Baekhyun and pushing Chanyeol a little while holding the ice pack in the air threateningly. Her failed attempt only makes Jongdae laugh louder. She catches a twitch of a smile from Kyungsoo next to him and gets distracted, an easier job for Yixing to grab her before she falls from the stool, securing her into place like a misbehaving child.

“I’ll beat your ass outside, let’s do it,” she grumbles.

“I don’t think beating ass is your thing. You’ve got brains but it’s clear to me you need some good ol’ training.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea.” Jongin sits up straighter, looking at her “Sehun and I both went through training, we still do.”

Junmyeon chimes in “Actually, it’s a good idea.”

She groans. “I start uni again next week, I’ll barely have time to—”

“Training is important” he interrupts her “What we do is already a huge risk, we’re not gonna send you in unprepared and let you get beat up out there. I won’t have it. It’s either this or you stay home with Baekhyun. Monitor duty, how’s that?”

“Oh fuck no” No fucking way she’s staying home, no matter the offended look Baekhyun gives her as he asks what’s so bad about monitoring.

After today, even if the killer hangover is starting to come to the surface, she’s found there’s still a buzz keeping her awake. She’d like to experiment it again.

“Then you’re training, it’s settled” easy as that, he’s ended the discussion. “Chanyeol, Jongdae, you two are in charge of her.”

“Aye aye, boss.”

“Wait,” Yixing gasps, pushing her shoulder back “You made it through the day and still have stars left?”

“You forgot to take the last one after I got out of the car” she laughs, looking at Sehun. Jongdae groans loudly, hitting his forehead with his open palm and muttering something about hoping they wouldn’t bring it up.

Sehun smirks raising his beer to cover his mouth.

“We were trying to see how long it’d take for you to join, and that reminds me, bills on you tonight, Dae.”


End file.
